mtmmmamtmmmmm 


M^mmm^tttH^ 


The  CLUTCH  or 


Maiiorie  Benton  Cooke 


/^l  ? 


/ 


^ 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcli  ive.org/details/clutcliofcircumstOOcookiala 


THE    CLUTCH    OF 
CIRCUMSTANCE 

MAKJORIE  BENTON  COOKE 


THE  CLUTCH  OF 
CIRCUMSTANCE 


BY 


MARJORIE  BENTON  COOKE 


««».  •  ..-nv    " 


AtTEHOB  OF     BAMBI,     ETC 


D 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1918, 
By  George  H.  Dorm  Company 


Trinted  in  the  United  States  of  America 


m  514?G30 


CHARACTERS 

Lady  Roberta  Trask,  called  Lady  Bods. 

Lady  Cecily  Harrison,  Lady  Trask's  best  friend. 

The  Honorable  Mildred  Downer.  ' 

The  Duchess  of  Wrowe. 

Lord  Ashton  Trask. 

Captain  Larry  OToole. 

Ted  Carter,  American  boy  in  English  Flying  Corps. 

Lord  Kendrick,  of  the  War  Council. 

Lieutenant  Ivan  Insull,  of  the  English  Secret  Service. 


PART  ONE 


ESrVICTUS 

In  the  fell  clutch  of  circumstance 
I  have  not  wmced  or  cried  aloud. 
Under  the  bludgeonings  of  chance 
My  head  is  bloody,  but  unbowed. 

WILLIAM  ERNEST  HENLEY. 


THE    CLUTCH 
OF  CIRCUMSTANCE 


PART  ONE 

CHAPTER  I 

"Is  Lady  Trask  at  home,  Brooks?"  Sir  Ash- 
ton  Trask  inquired  of  the  butler  as  he  en- 
tered his  own  drawing  room. 

"Yes,  Sir  Ashton,  Lady  Trask  is  in,  I  be- 
lieve, sir." 

"Send  her  word  that  I  am  here,  please." 

The  servant  withdrew,  and  Sir  Ashton  took 
a  few  turns  up  and  down  the  room,  nervously 
engrossed  in  his  own  thoughts. 

At  the  sound  of  Lady  Trask's  entrance,  he 
turned  and  watched  her  come  toward  him, 
across  the  long  room.  She  was  tall  and  gra- 
cious and  beautiful.  She  moved  with  a  large 
slow  dignity,  which  always  delighted  him.  She 
wore  a  deep  toned  velvet  gown  befitting  a  prin- 

9 


10  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

cess,  and  smiled  her  welcome.  Lady  Trask's 
smile  was  famous. 

Sir  Ashton  held  a  hand  to  her,  and  she  laid 
her  own  in  it,  but  her  thoughts  were  not  with 
him,  she  was  intent  on  something  else. 

"Why  didn't  you  bring  him  with  you?"  she 
asked. 

"He  was  busy  at  the  War  Office  when  I  left. 
He  is  coming  along  presently." 

"He  may  change  his  mind " 

"Oh  no.  I  hope  you  haven't  asked  people  to 
lunch,"  he  added  with  quick  suspicion. 

"One  or  two." 

"Roberta,  not  a  party  I" 

"No.  Cecily,  Mildred  Downer,  Ted  and 
Larry.    That's  all." 

"He  certainly  would  bolt  it,  if  he  thought 
it  was  a  party.    He  hates  them,  you  know." 

"The  man  is  the  supreme  egotist  of  the 
world  I"  smiled  Lady  Bobs,  as  she  was  known 
to  her  familiars.  "You  would  think  he  con- 
ferred eternal  distinction  upon  us,  and  our 
house  forever,  by  breaking  bread  with  us." 

"I  merely  asked  him  to  drop  in  for  lunch." 

"Stop  bothering.  If  he  objects  to  some 
amusing  women  and  two  nice  men,  he  can 
depart." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  11 

"Mildred  Downer  amusing?"  inquired 
Trask. 

"She  amuses  me.  She's  new,  modern, 
queer." 

"Queer?  Why  not?  Her  father  was  a  man 
and  so  was  her  mother." 

Lady  Bobs  laughed. 

"I'll  put  Mildred  the  Mauling  next  you  for 
punishment." 

"When  is  O'Toole's  leave  up?"  he  inquired. 

"I  haven't  asked  him." 

"He  manages  to  be  about  London  a  good 
deal." 

"Don't  fuss  about  Larry.  He's  perfectly 
charming,  even  if  you  don't  like  him." 

Brooks  entered  and  offered  Lady  Trask  a 
letter.  She  opened  it,  looked  through  it,  a 
slow  flush  rising  to  her  face.  She  glanced  at 
her  husband  and  turned  to  the  butler,  who 
waited  at  the  door. 

"Did  this  come  by  messenger.  Brooks?" 

"Apparently,  Lady  Trask.  It  was  pushed 
under  the  door." 

"There  is  no  answer." 

"Has  Kendrick  changed  his  mind?"  asked 
Trask  amusedly. 

"No,"  she  said. 


12  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Lady  Harrison  was  announced  at  the  mo- 
ment. Cecily  Harrison  was  typically  English. 
Tall,  thin,  with  sandy  hair,  which  was  waved 
back  from  a  lovely  brow.  Emerald  green  eyes 
gave  her  face  its  distinction. 

"Morning,  Bobs.  How-do,  Ashton?"  She 
looked  about.  "I  knew  you  were  spoofing, 
Bobs,  when  you  asked  me.'* 

"Did  you?  Well,  wait  and  see  whether  I 
was  spoofing  or  not,"  retorted  her  hostess. 
"My  word,  look  at  her  mufti,  Ashton." 

"Yes,"  said  Lady  Cecily,  "I'm  dressed  for 
conquest.  He  may  hate  women,  but  no  man 
could  hate  this  frock." 

"Cecily,  you're  terrifying  in  all  your  glory  I'* 
her  host  remarked. 

"Ashton  is  in  a  funk  because  I  called  you 
up  and  asked  you  to  lunch.  He's  afraid  Lord 
Kendrick  will  blame  him  for  my  indiscretions." 

"Nice  of  you,  dear,  to  call  me  an  indiscre- 
tion.   I  hope  you  didn't  ask  any  one  else." 

"Mildred,  Ted  and  Larry  were  coming  any- 
way." 

"Why  Mildred?" 

"That's  what  I  said,"  remarked  Sir  Ashton. 

"Purposes  of  contrast.    Besides,  I  like  her." 

Ted  Carter,  a  young  American,  serving  in 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  13 

the  English  Flying  Corps,  in  London  on  sick 
leave,  came  in  with  Captain  Larry  O'Toole, 
who  carried  his  left  arm  in  a  sling.  They  were 
familiars  in  this  household,  and  great  favour- 
ites with  both  the  ladies. 

O'Toole  struck  an  attitude,  as  of  one  blind- 
ed, before  the  two  women  who  stood  together. 

"Aren't  you  very  splendid,  you  two?"  he 
asked. 

"We  are,  Captain  O'Toole.  We  are  perfectly 
splendid,"  answered  Lady  Bobs. 

"Do  say  something  pretty,  O'Toole.  They've 
been  forced  to  admire  themselves  for  several 
minutes,  the  vain  things,"  teased  Ashton. 

"Are  you  paralysed,  too?"  inquired  the 
American. 

"Entirely." 

"When  did  you  come  back.  Sir  Ashton?" 
asked  O'Toole. 

"A  day  or  so  ago." 

"Lord  Kendrick  came  back  with  you,  I  hear." 

"Yes.  We  were  together  a  week  at  the 
front,  and  came  home  together." 

"Preparations  for  a  big  spring  drive,  I  hear. 
I  hope  to  Heaven  I  get  back  in  time  for  it," 
said  Carter. 

The  Honourable  Mildred  Downer  was  an- 


14  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

nounced  and  advanced  quickly.  She  was 
small,  alert,  sexless.  She  wore  tailored  clothes, 
and  was  utterly  unadorned.  She  gave  Lady 
Trask's  welcoming  hand  a  short,  hard  clasp 
and  offered  a  curt  greeting  to  the  others. 

"Where  is  he?"  said  she. 

"Here  I  am,"  smiled  O'Toole,  advancing 
gallantly. 

She  gave  him  a  scornful  glance,  and  no 
reply. 

"Late.  He  waits  for  an  entrance."  Bobs 
rephed. 

"Are  we  waiting  for  the  KingT*  asked 
O'Toole. 

"Lord  Kendrick,"  announced  Brooks. 

The  tall  figure  halted  a  moment  at  the 
threshold,  swept  the  room  with  a  quick  glance, 
and  advanced  toward  the  group  as  toward  a 
hateful  duty.    Lady  Trask  went  to  meet  him. 

"You  are  very  welcome.  Lord  Kendrick," 
she  said. 

"Thank  you." 

She  presented  him  to  the  others.  He  bowed 
formally,  making  no  reply  to  their  greetings. 
Mildred  Downer  advanced  and  held  out  her 
hand.  He  took  it  for  a  brief  moment,  looking 
at  her  keenly. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  15 

"Don't  act  as  if  you  didn't  know  me,"  she 
said. 

"Certainly  I  know  you,"  he  replied. 

He  turned  to  Trask. 

"We  must  be  in  our  seats  at  two- thirty.  The 
Premier  speaks  at  three." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause,  broken  by  the 
announcement — 

"The  Duchess  of  Wrowe." 

"The  Devil!"  ejaculated  Lady  Bobs  audi- 
bly, whereupon  Kendrick  flashed  a  smile  of 
amusement  at  her. 

The  frumpy  well  known  figure  puffed  to- 
ward them. 

"Roberta,  I've  come  to  lunch.  I'm  not  in- 
vited, but  I've  come." 

"How  enchanting  of  you.  Duchess,"  said 
Bobs. 

"Ashton,  you  ask  me  to  parties  that  bore  me, 
and  when  you  give  one  that  interests  me,  1 
have  to  come  unasked." 

He  bowed  over  her  hand. 

"Unasked,  possibly.    Never  unwelcome." 

She  nodded  to  the  others. 

"Duchess,  if  you  weren't  asked,  you  wiH 
have  to  do  without  your  entree.  As  the  youngp* 
est  present  I  refuse  to  give  up  mine  to  you. 


16  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I  should  never  expect  you  to  give  up  any- 
thing, Cecily.  Giving  up  is  not  your  special 
talent,"  retorted  the  Duchess.  She  turned  to 
Kendrick.  "I  heard  you  were  lunching  here, 
that's  why  I  came." 

"I'm  flattered,  Duchess,"  he  said. 

"I  want  to  know  all  the  inside  news  from 
the  front,"  she  began. 

Luncheon  was  announced,  and  Lord  Ken- 
drick led  the  way  with  Lady  Trask. 

"It  serves  you  right,"  said  he. 

"For  what?" 

"Luring  me  here  under  false  pretences." 

"Ashton  invited  you " 

"An  hour  ago — to  drop  into  lunch,  en 
famiUe." 

"You  would  have  preferred  me,  alone?" 

"I  expected  to  talk  shop  with  your  hus- 
band," he  evaded. 

"That's  not  a  pretty  speech." 

"I'm  not  a  pretty  speechmaker.  Lady 
Trask." 

"The  men  were  lunching  here.  I  asked  Mil- 
dred and  Cecily,  because  I  thought  they  would 
amuse  you." 

"Who  is  Cecily?" 

"Lady  Harrison.    She's  next  you." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  17 

He  turned  to  look  at  his  neighbour,  and  en- 
countered her  eyes.  He  looked  through  her, 
and  it  was  not  until  he  was  attacking  his  fish 
that  she  spoke. 

"Don't  you  ever  smile?"  she  inquired  sud- 
denly. 

"I  do  when  I'm  amused." 

"Go  on  with  your  fish,  until  I  think  of  some- 
thing amusing,"  she  said,  turning  her  attention 
to  O 'Toole,  on  her  other  side. 

"Perhaps  you  would  have  preferred  the 
Duchess,"  said  Lady  Bobs  to  him. 

"I  don't  object  to  the  green-eyed  woman," 
he  replied. 

Lady  Bobs  laughed. 

"You  are  an  ogre, — ^but  you  don't  terrify 
me." 

"I  haven't  tried  to." 

"You  think  you  could?" 

"Must  I  think  about  it?" 

The  Duchess  leaned  forward. 

"Lord  Kendrick,  what  are  they  going  to  do 
next  in  France?" 

"I  don't  know.  Duchess." 

"You  must  know  what  we're  going  to  do." 

"If  I  did,  I  should  not  tell." 

"I  hear  the  French  and  English  have  done 


18  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

great  work  along  the  Somme,"  said  Carter. 

"Yes.  While  we  were  there  they  worked 
out  a  new  plan  of  advance.  Our  forces  would 
effect  a  lodgment,  and  work  zig-zag,  widening 
the  front  of  penetration.  The  Boche  couldn't 
get  on  to  it. 

"I  don't  understand  that.  Tell  it  in  words 
of  one  syllable  for  an  old  woman,  Ashton,"  the 
Duchess  commanded. 

He  took  out  a  pencil  and  started  to  draw 
a  diagram  on  the  tablecloth. 

"Trask,  don't  do  that  I"  objected  Kendrick. 

"Here,  among  my  intimate  friends?  Why, 
I  trust  them  as  I  would  myself.'* 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Kendrick  briefly. 

"I  see  why  they  call  you  Silent  Kendrick,'* 
said  Lady  Bobs. 

"Silence  and  soldiering  go  best  together.'* 

"Is  that  why  you  dislike  women,  because 
they  chatter?" 

"That's  one  reason." 

"Are  there  many?" 

"There  are  enough.'* 

His  smile  came  again. 

"You  look  quite  human  when  you  tmile.** 

"I   have   very   little   time   to   be   human. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  19 

Madame.  Are  you  an  American?"  he  added 
abruptly. 

"I  was  born  in  New  York.  My  father  was 
one  of  the  Hancocks — an  old  American  fam- 
ily.    Why  do  you  ask?" 

"You  look  un-English.  The  boy  is  Ameri- 
can, too?" 

"Boy?" 

"The  adoring  lad  on  your  other  side." 

"Fancy  your  noticing  that,"  she  laughed. 

"Noticing  is  my  chief  talent.  Lady  Trask." 

"Do  notice  me!" 

"I  have." 

Lady  Cecily  claimed  his  attention. 

"I've  thought  of  it." 

"What?" 

"The  something  amusing." 

"Ah." 

"You  must  say,  'What  is  it?' " 

"I  prefer  not  to  risk  it." 

"It  is  very  funny." 

"Well,  get  ahead  with  it." 

"It  is  your  retort  to  the  Queen.'* 

"My  what?" 

"You  don't  know  about  it!  It  is  the  one 
moss-grown  anecdote  always  told  about  you. 
The  Queen  laid " 


20  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"What  Queen?" 

"Victoria.  Don't  interrupt.  She  said, 
*Lord  Kendrick,  I  hear  that  you  have  no  love 
for  the  ladies.'  You  said,  'For  one  only.' 
'Who  is  she?'  asked  her  Royal  Highness.  And 
you  retorted,  'Your  Majesty!'  " 

"Why  do  you  think  that  is  funny?"  he  in- 
quired. 

Lady  Bobs  was  listening  to  them,  and  at  this 
juncture  she  and  Lady  Cecily  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. 

"The  true  tale  goes  thus,"  said  Bobs.  "The 
Queen:  'Lord  Kendrick,  I  hear  you  have  no 
love  for  the  ladies.'  Lord  Kendrick:  'Ah I' 
The  Queen,  archly:  'Not  even  for  one?*  Lord 
Kendrick :  'None !'  " 

He  turned  his  glance  from  one  laughing 
face  to  the  other. 

"How  can  any  one  take  you  seriously? 
You're  like  kittens,  chasing  a  bright  coloured 
baU." 

"Oh !"  exclaimed  Lady  Bobs. 

"Brute  1"  ejaculated  Lady  Cecily. 

He  rose. 

"There  is  a  sweet  to  come,  and  coffee,"  ob- 
jected his  hostess. 

"I  regret  that  I  must  go." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  21 

She  rose  too. 

"Ashton,  Lord  Kendrick  is  going." 

He  came  to  join  his  guest.  She  gave  Lord 
Kendrick  her  hand,  smiling. 

"You  are  the  most  perfect  barbarian  I  ever 
met." 

"Madam,  I  am  a  machine  of  war." 

"Au  'voir,"  she  said,  and  sat  down  again. 

"If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  go  with  him," 
Sir  Ashton  remarked.  With  a  bow  to  the 
others  Lord  Kendrick  left  the  room,  his  host 
with  him. 

"What  a  horrible  man!"  burst  out  Lady 
Cecily. 

"Oh,  no,  Cecily.  It  takes  genius  to  behave 
like  that,"  said  Lady  Bobs.  "I  feel  as  if  I  had 
lunched  with  Thor,  or  was  it  Wodin?" 

"It  takes  some  nerve  to  spoil  a  party  and 
then  drag  your  host  off  in  the  middle  of  it," 
exclaimed  Carter. 

"I'm  the  one  to  complain  about  Ashton," 
said  the  Duchess. 

"Duchess,  shall  you  be  lonely?  Let  me  com- 
fort you,"  said  the  Irishman  gaily.  "Miss 
Downer  has  reduced  me  to  fragments.  Twelve 
baskets  full  of  fragments." 

He  crossed  to  Ashton  Trask's  empty  chair. 


22  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

He  made  ridiculous  love  to  the  Duchess,  but 
his  laughing  eyes  rested  again  and  again  on 
Sir  Ashton's  uncompleted  diagram  on  the 
tablecloth. 


CHAPTER  n 

Ladt  Robeeta  Trask  had  an  interesting 
heritage.  Her  father  was  the  son  of  a  long 
line  of  men  who  had  made  history  in  America. 
Her  mother  had  been  a  famous  beauty,  Ade- 
laide Briick,  born  in  New  York  but  of  German 
parentage.  Roberta  could  scarcely  remember 
her,  for  she  had  died  in  the  girl's  early  child- 
hood, never  having  recovered  from  the  birth  of 
her  child. 

Hancock,  who  had  been  madly  in  love  with 
her,  laid  her  death  at  the  door  of  his  daughter, 
and  never  forgave  her.  He  saw  as  little  of  her 
as  possible.  So  it  was  that  the  picturesque  and 
dominating  figure  of  her  childhood  and  youth 
had  been  her  German  grandfather,  Heinrich 
Briick.  He  was  an  impelling  personality,  ut- 
terly devoted  to  his  grandchild  and  his  Father- 
land. He  hved  in  the  United  States  for  the 
greater  part  of  his  hfe,  from  thirty  to  seventy, 
but  he  never  became  an  American  citizen  in 
any  sense  of  the  word. 

He  had  poured  his  passion  for  German  ideas 

23 


24  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

and  ideals  into  the  plastic  mind  of  his  grand- 
child. He  spoke  only  German  to  her,  and  she 
grew  up  in  the  knowledge  of  Grerman  litera- 
ture, philosophy  and  politics.  Her  grand- 
father was  her  idol,  and  she  gave  him  her  com- 
plete devotion. 

When  she  was  fifteen  the  old  man  died. 
After  a  period  of  fierce  rebellion  and  grief, 
the  normal  interests  of  the  school  girl  absorbed 
her,  until  at  eighteen  she  lost  her  father.  Al- 
most at  once  she  married  a  friend  of  her  fa- 
ther's, a  man  many  years  her  senior,  a  rich  New 
Yorker. 

At  twenty  she  was  a  widow,  enormously  rich 
and  very  handsome.  It  was  on  the  Riviera,  a 
year  later,  that  she  met  Sir  Ashton  Trask. 
After  a  doggedly  determined  courtship,  on  his 
part,  he  won  and  married  her. 

In  London  she  "got  on"  with  the  right  peo- 
ple. Her  wealth  and  her  beauty  were  a  ten 
days'  sensation,  and  then  she  and  her  charming 
husband  found  their  house  the  centre  of  an 
interesting  group,  literary,  artistic  and  polit- 
ical. They  had  been  fifteen  years  in  London 
when  the  Great  War  broke  out. 

"Lady  Bobs,"  admired  and  adored  as  she 
was,  had  never  become  an  English  citizen  at 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  25 

heart.  She  was  fond  of  her  associates,  she  en- 
joyed her  life,  but  there  was  in  her  a  sort  of 
reserve  of  amusement  at  the  peculiarities  and 
foibles  of  the  English  people.  It  never  crys- 
tallised into  active  criticism  or  antipathy,  but 
it  just  lurked  there  in  the  depths  of  her  mind. 
She  thought  of  herself  as  American,  she  was 
spoken  of  always  as  such.  Any  lack  of  formal- 
ity or  convention  on  her  part  was  forgiven  her 
on  the  ground  of  her  "Americanism." 

But  with  the  coming  of  the  Great  War, 
when  nationality  became  a  fierce  passion  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  there  stirred  in  her  an  ancient 
loyalty.  It  was  instinctive,  primal.  It  was 
not  to  England,  not  to  America,  it  was  to  Ger- 
many. It  was  deeply  Teutonic,  anti-Saxon. 
It  startled  her,  as  thoroughly  as  it  terrified  her. 
The  thought  of  all  such  allegiance  must  be 
slain,  she  said  to  herself,  it  made  her  position 
too  unbearable.  So  she  fought  it  down  and 
held  it  back  during  the  first  months  of  the  war. 

With  the  rest  of  the  world  she  was  shocked 
at  the  invasion  of  Belgiimi,  but  not  as  her 
husband  was  shocked.  As  she  pointed  out  to 
him,  if  France  was  to  be  invaded,  it  had  to  be 
through  Belgium,  no  other  way  could  have 
succeeded.    This  was  War. 


26  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Her  mind,  like  the  mind  of  the  world,  con- 
centrated on  the  momentous  events  of  the  fall 
of  1914.  In  her  groping  for  light  on  her  own 
situation,  she  summoned  the  memory  of  Hein- 
rich  Briick.  She  recalled  his  dreams  of  a  tri- 
umphant world  conquest  of  German  "Kultur" ; 
his  belief  in  the  power  of  organised  thought, 
nay,  the  super-power  of  organised  forethought. 
He  held  that  a  Teutonic  civilisation  would  fol- 
low the  Anglo-Saxon,  and  after  that  a  Slavic. 

In  the  midst  of  her  soul-searchings  it  seemed 
to  her  that  the  form  of  her  grandfather  ap- 
peared to  her,  that  he  spoke  again  in  his  well 
remembered  compelling  way,  of  the  ideals  of 
a  nation  which  was  working  out  for  itself  a 
union  of  the  practical  and  the  ideal,  which  was 
trying  to  put  imagination  into  the  economic 
processes.  He  pointed  out  to  her  the  weak- 
nesses of  the  Anglo-Saxon  mind.  She  com- 
muned with  his  spirit,  drank  deep  of  his  enthu- 
siasm, and  found  herself  more  terribly  per- 
plexed. 

Her  affection  for  Ashton  Trask  was  very 
real.  She  knew  the  depth  of  his  devotion  to 
her,  even  while  she  cultivated  the  American 
fine  art  of  coquetry.  The  love  of  many  men 
had  played  a  part  in  her  life.    She  had  played 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  27 

at  love.  She  admired  and  liked  Ashton,  but 
she  had  never  known  the  grand  passion.  On 
the  whole,  she  preferred  not  to. 

She  went  over  all  this,  trying  to  get  her 
mind  clear.  Like  all  Britons,  Ashton  Trask 
ifelt  his  country  to  be  the  very  root  of  his  being. 
She  knew  that  and  respected  him  for  it.  But 
she  knew  that  he  would  never  understand  nor 
forgive  this  hybrid  allegiance  on  her  part. 
Where  did  her  duty  lie?  Should  she  tell  him, 
and  go?  Should  she  be  silent,  and  live  false- 
hood? 

It  was  six  weeks  after  England  entered  the 
War  that  there  came  the  first  of  the  mysterious 
messages,  calling  on  her,  as  the  granddaughter 
of  Heinrich  Briick,  to  serve  the  Fatherland. 
Where  they  came  from,  or  how,  she  did  not 
know.  They  were  just  there,  as  by  magic,  on 
her  dressing  table,  in  her  motor  car.  They 
urged  her,  in  German  of  course,  to  send  the 
information  at  her  command  to  her  own  peo- 
ple, to  serve  her  grandfather's  ideals. 

She  was  told  that  a  man  stood  always  on 
guard  of  her  house.  When  the  hour  came  for 
her  to  prove4ierself,  a  small  British  flag,  hung 
in  her  bedroom  window,  would  bring  an  ac- 


28  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

credited  agent  of  the  Fatherland  to  her  door 
immediately. 

It  was  the  bold  delivery  of  such  a  message, 
the  day  that  Kendrick  came  to  lunch,  that  had 
alanned  her.  It  was  a  threat.  What  if  one  of 
these  communications  fell  into  Ashton's  hands, 
or  those  of  the  servants?  The  danger  was  as 
great  as  the  nerve  strain  was  racking.  How 
could  she  stop  them?  These  were  the  prob- 
lems that  nagged  her  mind  night  and  day. 

She  threw  herself  into  every  form  of  activity, 
as  a  means  of  escape.  There  was  but  little  en- 
tertaining in  this  the  third  year  of  the  war,  and 
so  fewer  outlets  than  usual  for  overcharged 
nerves.  But  she  kept  her  house  full,  and  she 
forced  herself  to  take  part  in  the  innumerable 
war  activities  carried  on  by  women,  pending 
her  decision  as  to  her  own  ultimate  position. 

The  first  year  and  a  half  she  had  ignored  her 
orders  from  abroad.  The  late  winter  of  1916 
was  now  upon  the  world,  and  the  cause  of  the 
Allies  hanging  in  the  balance.  The  message 
delivered  the  day  of  the  Kendrick  luncheon 
was  not  friendly  in  tone.  It  announced  that 
victory  of  the  Central  Powers  was  assured,  and 
that  she  was  needed  for  an  act  of  great  service. 
She  must  no  longer  delay.     Had  she  forgot 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  29 

that  Germany  could  ruin  her?  No  traitor  to 
the  Fatherland  would  be  spared! 

The  cold  hand  of  Fear  seemed  to  shut  down 
on  her.  It  was  a  week  or  so  after  the  receipt 
of  the  threat,  that  Lady  Cecily  induced  her  to 
go  to  a  big  public  meeting  where  the  Premier 
was  to  speak.  She  did  not  want  to  go,  but 
anything  was  better  than  the  company  of  her 
own  thoughts. 

The  great  hall  was  crowded  with  people  of 
every  class  and  kind,  when  they  arrived.  The 
two  women  sat  where  they  could  sweep  the 
crowd  with  their  eyes. 

"How  tense  their  faces  look — ^how  restless 
they  are,"  Lady  Bobs  said. 

"Yes.  They  are  like  people  frantically 
clutching  at  this  or  that  to  save  themselves." 

"Poor  wretched  souls !"  sighed  Lady  Trask. 

"What  do  they  make  of  it  all,  Bobs?  Do 
they  believe  that  we  are  fighting  because  Bel- 
gium was  invaded?" 

"They  believe  what  they're  told." 

The  chairman  and  the  speakers  appeared, 
greeted  with  loud  applause.  The  meeting 
came  to  order.  Announcements  were  made, 
the  first  speaker  introduced.    Lady  Bobs  did 


80  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

not  listen.  She  looked  down  at  the  crowd  with 
its  glittering  eyes  and  tense  faces. 

"We  have  only  to  have  a  chance  of  even 
numbers,  or  anything  approaching  even  num- 
bers, to  demonstrate  the  superiority  of  free 
thinking,  active  citizens,  over  the  docile  sheep 
who  serve  the  ferocious  ambitions  of  drastic 
kings!"  shouted  the  speaker,  stabbing  Lady 
Bobs'  attention.  She  looked  around  again. 
Were  these  "free  thinking,  active  citizens" 
down  there?  Did  they  conceive  themselves  to 
be  such? 

Her  mind  went  off  down  long  avenues  of 
speculation.  It  shuddered  away  from  the  past, 
it  peered  into  the  future.  The  crowd  below 
filled  the  universe,  the  ignorant,  the  exploited, 
the  enslaved.  Who  and  what  were  "drastic 
kings"?     Were  they  individuals  or  systems? 

There  was  great  applause,  and  her  eyes  came 
back  to  the  spectacle  below.  The  Premier  was 
being  introduced.  He  began  to  speak.  She 
did  not  hear  him,  she  heard  her  grandfather 
saying,  "The  nation  that  is  to  live  must  become 
the  master  of  tools.  A  militant  idealism  must 
conquer  the  common  life.  The  energy  of  this 
idealism  must  be  turned  into  the  power  of 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  31 

tools.  .  .  ."  The  Premier's  voice  drowned  him 
out: 

"We  are  fighting  against  barbarism,  against 
a  selfish  and  material  civilisation.  They  can- 
not comprehend  the  action  of  Britain  at  the 
present  moment;  they  say  so.  They  say, 
*France  we  understand.  She  is  out  for  venge- 
ance; she  is  out  for  territory,  for  Alsace-Lor- 
raine.' They  say  they  can  understand  Russia. 
She  is  fighting  for  mastery — she  wants  Galicia. 
They  can  understand  your  fighting  for  greed, 
for  vengeance,  for  territory,  but  they  cannot 
understand  a  great  Empire  flinging  its  re- 
sources, the  lives  of  its  children,  its  very  exis- 
tence to  protect  a  little  nation  that  seeks  to 
defend  herself " 

The  crowd  interrupted  with  wild  applause. 

"That  is  what  we  fight,  that  claim  to  pre- 
dominance of  a  material,  hard  civilisation 
which,  if  it  once  wins,  sways  the  world.  Lib- 
erty goes,  democracy  vanishes,  and  unless 
Britain  and  her  sons  come  to  the  rescue,  it  will 
be  a  dark  day  for  humanity." 

A  slow  anger  welled  up  in  Roberta.  France, 
Italy,  Russia,  were  they  not  busy  rescuing 
humanity?  Surely  Britain  and  her  sons  were 
not  alone  in  their  nobility  I 


32  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"We  shall  need  all  our  qualities,  every  qual- 
ity that  Britain  and  its  people  possess,  pru- 
dence in  counsel,  daring  in  action,  tenacity  in 
purpose,  courage  in  defeat,  moderation  in  vic- 
tory, and  in  all  things  faith.'* 

As  he  sat  down  the  crowd  below  beat  its 
hands,  stamped  its  feet,  waved  its  arms  and 
shouted.  They  liked  this  picture  that  he  drew 
of  them,  they  liked  to  believe  that  they  alone 
could  save  a  tottering  world.  With  his  usual 
discrimination,  Lloyd  George  had  struck  the 
popular  note.  Fury  with  their  blindness 
mounted  to  Lady  Bobs'  brain.  She  longed  to 
cry  out  to  them,  "Fools,  fools,  when  will  you 
learn  to  think  for  yourselves!'* 

As  she  stood  looking  at  them  as  they  left 
the  hall,  she  suddenly  looked  down  into  the 
eyes  of  Lord  Kendrick.  There  was  an  ex- 
change of  thought  between  them,  before  they 
greeted  each  other.  She  turned  quickly  to 
Lady  Cecily, 

"Remarkable  speech,  wasn't  it?"  Lady 
Cecily  said. 

Lady  Bobs  turned  startled  eyes  upon  her. 
She  saw  her  friend  thrilled,  moved.  She  made 
no  answer,  just  turned  and  led  the  way  out. 
It  was  slow  going,  because  of  the  crush.  They 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  33 

met  some  people  they  knew  on  the  way,  and 
stopped  to  talk.  Everywhere  the  verdict  was 
the  same,  it  had  been  a  great  meeting. 

At  the  door  they  met  Lord  Kendrick.  He 
had  evidently  waited  for  them.  He  bowed 
gravely  and  walked  beside  them.  He  glanced 
at  Lady  Trask  a  second  time. 

"Are  you  iU?" 

"No.  The  air  in  there  was  vile.  I  shall  be 
all  right  when  I  get  some  fresh  air  and  tea." 

He  engineered  them  through  the  mob,  found 
Lady  Bobs'  car,  put  them  into  it.  He  gave  the 
chauffeur  an  order  and  got  in  after  them. 

"Are  we  commandeered?"  inquired  Cecily. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "for  tea." 


CHAPTER  m 

He  took  them  to  a  quiet  tea  shop,  and  found 
a  retired  corner.  Lady  Cecily  chattered  on 
about  the  meeting,  the  Premier  and  his  speech, 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd.  Lord  Kendrick 
listened  without  reply.  He  turned  his  glance 
upon  Lady  Trask. 

"What  did  you  think  of  the  speech?"  he 
inquired. 

"I  shouldn't  have  gone.  I  hate  patrioteer- 
ing,"  she  evaded. 

"It  has  to  be  done." 

"Maybe.  Why  are  we  so  smug,  we  Anglo- 
Saxons?  England  and  America  are  so  sure 
that  they  are  God's  anointed." 

"They  are,"  he  said  simply. 

She  smiled. 

"It  is  comfortable  to  be  a  bigot,"  she  teased 
him. 

"It  is  essential.  In  times  like  these  you  must 
have  no  doubts.  Your  country  is  the  best,  your 
cause  the  holiest." 

"That's  a  very  long  speech  for  you,  isn't  it?'* 
said  Lady  Cecily. 

34 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  85 

He  swept  her  with  his  absent  gaze. 

"He  has  forgotten  me  again,"  she  sighed. 
"Harrison  is  the  name,  yclept  Cecily." 

He  made  no  comment  on  that. 

"Why  were  you  so  profoundly  moved?"  he 
asked  Roberta. 

She  gave  him  her  startled  gaze  for  a  second, 

"I  am  too  tired.  It  is  the  spring,  I  suppose. 
I  must  get  away  to-morrow." 

"What  do  you  do  to  rest  yourself?" 

"I  dig." 

"Do  you?    Excellent." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?  Would  you 
mind  acting  as  if  I  were  here  in  the  flesh,  and 
not  in  the  astral  only?"  begged  Lady  Cecily. 

He  looked  at  her  then. 

"How  you  do  love  the  spotlight,"  he  re- 
marked. 

"I  do,  and  so  do  you." 

"No.    I  dislike  it,  but  I  endure  it." 

"Pooh!  You'd  die  without  it.  You're  made 
up  for  the  spotlight  all  the  time — ^heroic  ges- 
tures all  ready  for  action." 

"Who  is  this  silly  woman?"  he  inquired  of 
Lady  Bobs. 

"She  isn't  silly.    She's  profoundly  wise " 

"You  mustn't  be  misled  by  my  blond  hidr," 


86  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

she  advised  him.  "I  don't  know  why  it  is  so 
startling  to  find  brains  in  a  blond  woman,  do 
you?" 

"I  never  did,"  he  replied. 

"Really,  you  are  brutal.  Do  you  want  peo- 
ple to  hate  you?" 

"People — what  people?" 

She  leaned  toward  him. 

"The  earth  is  densely  populated  with  animal 
life,  called  human.  If  you  should  happen  to 
look  about  you,  you  would  note  the  presence 
of  these  creatures " 

"She's  like  a  phonograph,"  protested  Lord 
Kendrick.     "Can't  she  be  shut  off?" 

"No,  I  always  play  a  full  programme,  in- 
cluding Donna  e  mobile,  and  airs  from  Travi- 
orLa. 

"Cecily,  don't  tease  him,"  begged  Roberta. 

"You  have  Bobs  on  your  side." 

"Who  is  Bobs?" 

"Roberta  Trask.  We  all  call  her  Lady 
Bobs." 

He  nodded. 

"What  do  you  dig,"  he  asked,  "and  where?" 

"Mother  Earth,  in  Surrey." 

"It  is  the  only  way,  isn't  it?" 

She  looked  her  question. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  37i 

"To  get  back,  by  physical  contact,  with  the 
roots  of  things." 

"Yes.  I  often  wish  humans  lay  down  in  the 
warm,  sweet  smelling  earth  in  the  fall,  like  the 
leaves,  and  came  out  renewed  and  green  in  the 
spring." 

"We  do— eventually." 

"Worms  is  all  I  get  out  of  this,"  protested 
Lady  Cecily. 

"Do  you  dig?"  Lady  Bobs  asked  him. 

"I  do.     Religiously,  devoutly,  fanatically." 

"Bigot  even  in  gardening?" 

"That's  why  my  geraniums  are  the  finest 
in  England." 

"You  haven't  any  sense  of  humour  at  all, 
have  you?"  said  Lady  Cecily  sweetly. 

"No.    I  despise  it." 

"No  wonder  you're  a  great  man — ^you  make 
an  asset  of  your  faults." 

"It  is  the  sign  of  strong  men  to  use  their 
faults  wisely.    It  is  weak  men  who  have  vices." 

"I  do  hate  this  man,  Bobs.  He's  like  a  Brit- 
ish Tank." 

Kendrick's  sudden  burst  of  laughter  startled 
them  both. 

"My  God,"  exclaimed  Cecily,  "I  feel  as  if 
I'd  been  struck  by  lightning!" 


68  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Cecily,"  laughed  Bobs,  "you  blessed  goose! 
Tell  me  about  your  geraniums,  Lord  Kendrick. 
Why  did  you  choose  to  cultiv^ate  them?" 

A  shadow  crossed  his  face,  before  he  an- 
swered briefly. 

"They  were  the  favourite  flower  of — some 
one  I  cared  for.  I  acquired  a  taste  for  them 
young." 

"I  should  have  expected  you  to  raise  cactus," 
said  Cecily. 

"There  is  no  use  trying  to  talk  with  this 
*enfant  terrible'  on  our  hands.  Couldn't  you 
take  Lady  Trask's  car  and  go  for  a  drive?"  he 
inquired. 

"No.    I  won't  go  home.    I  like  it  here." 

"Do  you  see  anybody  about  you'd  like  lo 
talk  with?"  he  inquired. 

She  looked  about  mischievously. 

"Interesting  looking  man  by  the  door,  with 
the  longish  face " 

"And  longish  hair,"  added  Bobs. 

Lord  Kendrick  strode  across  the  room  to  the 
table  indicated.  They  saw  the  man's  startled 
look,  his  nod,  his  smile.  He  rose  at  once  and 
came  back  with  Lord  Kendrick. 

"He's  captured  him,"  exclaimed  Cecily. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  39 

"You  didn't  think  he'd  fail,  did  you?"  was 
Bobs'  amused  comment. 

Just  before  they  came  to  the  table  they 
heard  Lord  Kendrick  say: 

"By  the  way,  what  is  your  name?'* 

The  young  man  answered,  and  Lord  Ken- 
drick said: 

"Lady  Trask,  may  I  present  Mr.  Basil 
Languedoc.  Lady  Harrison,  Mr.  Langue- 
doc." 

They  bowed  to  him,  and  Lord  Kendrick 
waved  him  to  a  seat. 

"Play  something  for  him,  Lady  Harrison. 
Try  Traviata,"  he  chuckled,  turning  his  full 
attention  upon  Lady  Trask. 

Lady  Cecily  looked  at  the  young  man  and 
laughed.    He  smiled  back  at  her. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  she  asked. 

"Every  one  does,  more  or  less." 

"Does  he  know  you?" 

**I  suspect  he  does  not." 

"What  did  he  say  to  you?" 

"For  God's  sake,  come  and  talk  to  the  pretty 
blond  woman  at  my  table,  young  man." 

Lady  Cecily's  laugh  chimed  merrily. 

"I  ought  to  tell  you,  that  he  gave  me  my 
choice  of  the  whole  room,  and  I  picked  you." 


40  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Why?" 

"Because  of  your  hands.  What  does  one  do 
with  hands  like  that?" 

"The  usual  stupidities,  such  as  washing  the 
face." 

"Do  you  paint?" 

"No." 

"What  then?" 

"Must  I  show  my  label?" 

"Not  at  all.  I  shall  think  of  you  as  a  plumb- 
er, and  be  quite  content." 

"Excellent  profession,  I'm  told.  What  do 
you  do  that  is  interesting?" 

"I  do  good  work,  and  war  works.  I  amuse 
my  friends,  and  bedevil  my  husband — is  that 
enough  of  my  label?" 

"Yes.  I  shall  think  of  you  as  a  green-eyed 
yellow  butterfly,  and  be  quite  content." 

She  smiled. 

"Repeat  'Jesus  Repose'  for  me." 

"You  do  know,  then?" 

"Of  course.    Say  me  your  charming  verses." 

He  repeated  them  softly,  dramatically.  His 
voice  was  like  honey. 
"Le  sacrifice  est  consomm^.     Jesus  repose. 

Mourons  pour  la  Patrie  et  pour  sa  sainte  cause, 
Le  sacrifice  est  consomm^.     Jesus  repose." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  41 

Kendrick  turned  to  them. 

"What's  this?" 

Lady  Cecily's  eyes  were  dim. 

"You  did  very  well  for  me.  You  picked  a 
poet.  He  has  made  me  cry,  and  I'm  going 
home." 

They  all  rose,  and  the  poet  made  his  fare- 
wells, and  stayed  on. 

"Perhaps  when  I  come  back  from  Surrey, 
you  will  come  and  talk  gardens  with  me  again, 
Lord  Kendrick,"  said  Bobs  as  they  went  to- 
ward the  door. 

"Thank  you." 

"If  you  should  suddenly  find  yourself  with 
a  longing  for  my  society,  come  and  see  me," 
said  Cecily. 

He  bowed. 

"You  might,  you  know.  A  taste  for  me  is 
like  a  germ,  men  have  died  of  it." 

"Of  the  taste  or  the  cure?" 

"Both.  I  could  read  up  on  a  seed  cata- 
logue, but  you  may  as  well  know  that  garden- 
ing is  not  a  passion  with  me." 

"Good  afternoon,"  said  he,  closing  the  motor 
door. 

"Shall  we  drop  you  somewhere?"  asked 
Bobs. 


42  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"No.    I  prefer  to  walk." 

They  marked  his  tall  military  figure  as  he 
swung  away  from  them. 

"He's  a  dear,"  said  Cecily. 

Bobs  laughed. 

"How  was  the  poet?  It  was  the  Languedoc, 
wasn't  it?" 

"Umhm.  He  left  a  sweetish  taste  in  my 
mouth,  after  Kendrick." 

"Why  isn't  he  in  khaki?"  asked  Lady  Bobs, 
idly,  avoiding  silence. 

"I  didn't  ask  him.  I  should  think  probably 
because  he  would  faint  at  the  sight  of  a  gun. 
He's  beautiful,  in  an  exotic  way " 

"Umhm " 

"If  only  some  one  in  my  infancy  had  taught 
me  to  grab  what  I  want,  as  Lord  Kendrick 
does." 

"My  dear,  you  get  what  you  want.  If  you 
mean  the  lovely  poet,  he  came  willingly 
enough " 

"If  he  hadn't  he  would  have  been  dragged." 

Lady  Bobs  nodded. 

"It's  an  enviable  sort  of  mind  to  have,  the 
Kendrick  kind.  It  shuts,  automatically,  like  a 
steel  safe  around  the  body  of  its  convictions, 
and  no  disturbing  light  gets  in." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  43 

"No  woman  ever  had  a  mind  like  that,  Bobs. 
Nearly  all  of  us  have  a  sense  of  humour,  which 
is  your  'disturbing  light.'  *' 

"If  you  had  heard  him  on  gardens,  you 
would  know  why  he  succeeds  at  everything. 
Top-soils  and  sub-soils,  fertilisers,  tools,  the- 
ories of  cultivation,  all  arranged  in  his  mind 
for  use." 

"How  dull  to  know  where  everything  is,  in 
your  mind!" 

"It  would  be  interesting  to  sweep  into  such 
a  place,  like  a  whirlwind,  and  mess  things  up, 
wouldn't  it?"  she  mused. 

"Rather.  Have  a  try  at  it,  Bobs,  and  tell 
me  about  it." 

"Have  a  try  yourself." 

"Couldn't  manage  it.  I  never  would  get 
inside,  and  if  I  did,  I'd  only  kick  up  a  bit  of 
dust.  You're  the  one.  I've  always  said  you'd 
be  a  regular  simoon,  if  you  ever  started  to 
blow." 

"I  don't  want  to  start,  thanks,  it's  too  upset- 
ting." 

They  were  at  Lady  Cecily's  door  and  she 
stepped  out  of  the  car.  She  put  a  saucy  face 
in  at  the  window  to  add: 

"Go  ahead,  Bobs,  and  simoon  him!" 


44  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

At  home  Lady  Trask  went  at  once  to  her 
own  rooms.  This  sitting  room  and  bedroom 
of  hers  were  very  characteristic  of  her.  They 
were  cool  and  large,  with  space  and  simplicity 
as  their  keynote.  The  neutral  coloured  walls 
seemed  to  open  out,  never  to  shut  in.  The 
notes  of  colour  were  concentrated  here  and 
there,  in  a  lamp,  a  bowl  of  flowers,  or  a  shelf 
of  deep  blue  books.  Her  piano  was  here,  its 
rack  filled  with  the  music  she  loved,  and  an 
open  fire  burned  on  the  hearth. 

It  rested  her  always  like  the  presence  of  a 
friend.  To-day  she  was  in  special  need  of  such 
help.  She  was  literally  worn  out  with  the  emo- 
tions of  the  afternoon.  She  undressed  and  put 
on  a  loose  negligee  gown.  She  selected  a  book 
with  care,  and  sat  down  by  her  fire  to  read. 
After  a  bit  she  admitted  that  her  eye  obeyed 
orders  and  read  words,  but  her  mind  was  blank. 

She  went  to  the  piano,  and  let  her  fingers 
choose  the  way,  rather  than  her  brain.  A  flood 
of  ideas  and  reactions  poured  through  her  con- 
sciousness like  a  searchlight.  The  Premier's 
speech — ^how  strange  that  it  should  have  made 

her  so  angry She  smiled  at  the  memory 

of  Cecily's  amusing  audacities,  and  the  way 
they  plagued  Lord  Kendrick.    What  strange 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  45 

silences  the  man  fathered — what  a  surprise  his 
laugh  was.  What  sort  of  human  was  he?  She 
must  find  out.  He  attracted  her  immensely. 
Was  it  in  the  power  of  any  woman  to  "simoon 
him"  in  Cecily's  ridiculous  phrase?  .  .  .  What 
was  it  he  had  said  to  her?  "You  must  have  no 
doubts.  Your  country  must  be  the  best,  your 
cause  the  holiest."  What  if  he  knew  what 
dangerous  advice  that  was  to  give  her  at  this 
moment? 

She  was  aware  now  of  the  thing  she  was 
playing,  an  old  favourite  of  her  grandfather's. 
It  brought  him  close  to  her,  so  that  she  felt  him. 
She  closed  her  eyes  that  she  might  not  lose 
him.  He  released  her  battered  spirit  from  the 
world  of  flux  she  hved  in,  he  gave  her  the  sense 
of  an  ordered  world. 

Back  over  the  years  that  held  him,  her  spirit 
trailed,  the  years  of  her  childhood  when  he 
had  been  both  father  and  mother.  How  sure 
his  understanding  had  been,  how  true  his  de- 
votion. His  deep-throated  laugh  sounded 
again.  .  .  .  Her  hands  dropped  from  the  keys 
and  she  felt  drowsy,  relaxed  at  last.  She  went 
to  the  couch  and  lay  down,  thinking  she  would 
sleep. 


46  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Grandfather  Heinrich,"  she  whispered, 
"what  shall  I  do?" 

She  lay  quite  still,  straining  to  catch  his  an- 
swer. She  was  neither  asleep  nor  awake.  She 
heard  the  clock  tick,  and  a  log  fall,  burned 
through,  in  the  fireplace.  And  yet  she  was 
not  in  that  room.  She  sensed  a  rustling,  as  of 
unseen  presences.  She  felt  as  if  finger-tips 
touched  her  eyes.  She  was  cold  with  terror, 
yet  filled  with  hope. 

After  what  seemed  a  long  time,  she  opened 
her  eyes.  In  a  stream  of  light  that  came  in  her 
window,  from  a  street  lamp  outside,  she  saw, 
distinctly,  Heinrich  Briick  standing.  He  came 
slowly  toward  her,  and  she  raised  herself  on 
her  elbow  to  greet  him.  He  carried  what 
seemed  to  be  a  flaming  sword,  laid  across  his 
two  hands,  palms  open  and  upturned.  She  felt 
him  lay  the  sword  across  her  knees,  she  felt 
his  hand  on  her  hair,  his  breath  on  her  cheek. 
She  heard  him  say: 

"Fiir  das  Vaterland,  meine  grosse  enkelin!'* 

She  lay  staring  at  him,  speechless,  terrified, 
longing  yet  unable  to  speak.  In  a  second  he 
was  gone,  and  she  knew  she  was  too  late.    She 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  47 

lost  consciousness  for  a  period  of  time.  But 
the  thundering  of  her  heart  finally  awakened 
her. 

The  room  was  empty,  the  window  closed. 
She  looked  at  the  clock,  it  was  only  a  quarter 
before  seven.  Her  breath  came  suffocatingly, 
in  sobbing  gasps.  Slowly  she  sat  up,  and  with 
startled  remembrance  her  eyes  turned  to  her 
knees,  where  the  sword  had  been  laid.  A  little 
British  flag  lay  in  her  lap. 

She  did  not  question  any  more.  She  did  not 
hesitate.  She  rose,  went  to  the  window  of  her 
bedroom,  and  pinned  the  flag  to  her  shade. 
Then  she  dressed  in  a  feverish  hurry.  She  was 
subconsciously  glad  that  extra  work  at  the  War 
Office  would  keep  Sir  Ashton  late.  Not  that 
it  mattered  now.  .  .  .  She  went  down  stairs. 
To  Brooks  she  said  that  she  was  expecting  a 
message  and  she  wished  to  speak  with  the  mes- 
senger. 

Then  she  went  into  the  drawing-room  and 
forced  herself  to  sit  down  and  wait. 


CHAPTER  rV 

It  might  have  been  ten  minutes,  it  might 
have  been  aeons  which  passed  while  Lady  Bobs 
sat  there  waiting.  Then  she  heard  the  bell, 
there  were  voices  in  the  hall,  footsteps  came 
toward  the  drawing-room  door.  Brooks  ush- 
ered some  one  in,  and  she  forced  herself  to  turn 
and  face  the  messenger.  There  stood,  smiling 
his  gayest  smile  at  her,  Captain  Larry  O 'Toole. 
She  stifled  an  hysteric  exclamation  and  tried  to 
get  her  nerves  in  hand. 

"A  very  good  day  to  ye,  most  lovely  av 
ladies!" 

"Oh,  Larry,  I'm  not  at  home,"  she  said. 

He  came  to  stand  in  front  of  her. 

"I  think  you're  at  home  to  me." 

"But  I'm  not.  I  have  a  business  appoint- 
ment, besides  it  is  too  late  for  tea  here,  so  run 
along.  Irishman." 

"Come  now,  ye  wouldn't  be  drivin'  out  your 
own  Larry " 

"Larry,  I'm  serious,"  she  began. 

A  sudden  change  came  over  the  laughing 
face. 

48 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  49 

"So  am  I,"  said  he. 

"I'm  expecting " 

"A  messenger,"  he  finished. 

She  flushed  and  stared. 

"How  did  you  know?" 

"I  am  he." 

"Larry — you !" 

He  slipped  oiF  a  seal  ring  he  wore,  opened 
it  with  a  spring,  took  out  a  tiny,  folded  paper, 
spread  it  on  his  palm.  He  took  up  a  magnify- 
ing glass  from  a  table  and  offered  it  to  her. 
She  peered  at  the  miniature  identification  of 
Captain  Larry  O 'Toole  as  the  agent  of  the 
Imperial  German  Government.  She  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face,  literally  speechless  with 
astonishment.  He  hastily  replaced  the  dan- 
gerous scrap  of  paper  in  its  hiding  place. 

"Larry,  I  just  cannot  grasp  it." 

"It's  not  so  difficult." 

"But  gay  happy  you,  playing  around,  and 
making  love  to  all  of  us " 

"That's  how  I  serve  the  one  I  love  best  av 
all!"  he  said  passionately. 

"You  mean?" 

"I  mean  Ireland." 

"But  your  commission.  Didn't  you  have  to 
swear  allegiance ?" 


50  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I  never  knew  where  my  allegiance  lay  until 
this  war  began,"  he  said. 

"How  strange.  That  happened  to  you, 
too?" 

He  nodded. 

"I've  always  loved  Ireland.  I've  always 
wanted  her  to  be  free,  but  I  left  the  freein'  av 
her,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  other  fella'.  I 
stood  for  England's  muddlin'  stupidity  in  our 
affairs  up  to  the  toime  when  she  goes  to  war 
for  the  avowed  protection  av  the  integrity  av 
little  nations,  up  to  the  toime  she  shoots  down 
the  revolutionists,  in  the  streets,  without  so 
much  as  a  court  martial  trial!  When  England 
starts  out  preachin'  an'  crusadin'  fer  freedom, 
by  God,  I'll  call  her  attintion  to  Ireland  at 
her  door." 

"But  how  can  Germany  help  you?" 

"Germany  will  win  the  war,  an'  free  Ire- 
land." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Av  course  I'm  sure.  I'm  riskin'  me  loife 
on  ut." 

"But  is  there  an  agreement?" 

"There  is.  The  revolutionists  in  Ireland 
have  an  agreement  with  Germany.  Nothing 
could  humiliate  England  so  much  as  for  Ger- 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  51 

many  to  give  us  our  freedom.  That's  why 
there  is  a  whole  rigimint  av  us  scattered  about 
in  the  British  service." 

She  considered  that  a  moment. 

"You  don't  hate  the  work  you  have  to  do?" 

"Hate  ut?  It's  the  breath  av  loife  to  me. 
I've  been  av  considerable  service,  thanks  to  me 
irreproachable  connections  here.  No  one  else 
can  do  what  I  do.    My  bit  has  a  special  value." 

"You  aren't  afraid?" 

"Afraid?  Of  what?  Death?  Who's  afraid 
of  death  now?  We  face  it  every  day  at  the 
front,  it's  as  ordinary  as  breakfast." 

"I  see.  You  count  yourself  as  an  infinitesi- 
mal unit  of  service?" 

"That's  it." 

He  looked  at  her  intently,  waiting. 

"How  did  they  know  about  me?" 

He  smiled  at  that. 

"Lady  Bobs,  they  are  like  God !  They  know 
ivrything.  They  knew  the  status  and  where- 
abouts of  ivry  man,  woman,  and  choild  av  Ger- 
man, Prussian,  or  Austrian  descent,  livin'  in 
England,  and  They  had  it  down  in  books,  long 
before  the  war  was  dreamed  av  by  the  rist  av 
us." 

"How  incredible." 


52  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Nuthin'  is  incredible  with  Them.  To  an 
Irishman  loike  me,  with  thought  for  the  wan 
day  only,  They're  terrifyin',  for  They  think  in 
centuries.  How  can  They  fail  to  conquer  a 
haphazard  world  like  the  rist  av  us  live  in?" 

"Have  you  known  that  They  were  sending 
me  messages?" 

"I  have  not." 

"How  did  you  come  to-day?" 

"I  came  on  orders." 

"From  whom?" 

"From  Them." 

"They  told  me  that  a  man  watched  my  house 
day  and  night.    They  told  me  the  signal  that 

would  bring  an  agent " 

•    "You  gave  the  signal?" 

"Yes." 

"A  messenger  brought  me  orders  to  come 
here  and  show  you  my  credentials.  I  couldn't 
believe  it,  but  I  came." 

"My  grandfather  was  a  German." 

His  eyebrows  went  up. 

"Trask  knows?" 

"About  my  grandfather?  Oh,  yes.  At  least 
I  told  him  when  we  were  married." 

"He  never  saw  him?" 

"Oh,  no.    He  died  when  I  was  fifteen." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  53 

"Your  mother's  father?" 

"Yes.    Heinrich  Briick." 

"But  your  mother  was  American  bom?" 

"Yes,  as  I  was.  My  father  was  American 
many  generations  back." 

"You're  always  spoken  of  here  as  Ameri- 
can." 

"Yes." 

"Wonderful!  You  have  not  mentioned  the 
Briick  ancestor  since  war  began?" 

"Naturally  not." 

"When  did  you  decide?'* 

"To-day,  this  afternoon,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice.  "I've  known  for  months  that  deep  in 
my  soul  was  loyalty  to  the  ideals  of  my  grand- 
father. I've  fought  the  knowledge,  I've  denied 
it.  I've  told  myself  over  and  over  that  I  owed 
Ashton  my  full  allegiance,  but  I  know  now 
that  it  doesn't  count,  that  nothing  counts  ex- 
cept freeing  myself  for  service " 

"What  was  it  that  clinched  the  determina- 
tion?" 

"Cecily  and  I  went  to-day  to  hear  Lloyd 
George  rouse  the  populace.  I  couldn't  bear  it, 
his  denunciation  of  us  as  barbarians,  because 
we  make  war  like  ruthless  gods.  I  couldn't 
endure  his  calm  assumption,  but  that  for  Eng- 


64  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

land  the  world  would  be  a  ruin  and  a  waste." 

"I  know — I  know,"  he  said. 

"We  had  tea  with  Lord  Kendrick  later.  He 
assured  us  seriously  that  the  Anglo-Saxons 
were  God's  anointed." 

He  smiled  at  that. 

"God  with  the  Kaiser,  God  with  the  Angles, 
poor,  distracted  God!" 

"I  came  home  terribly  wrought  up.  I  lay 
down  to  quiet  my  nerves,  and  I  had  a  sort  of 
vision  of  my  grandfather.  I  don't  know  how 
it  was,  I  can't  explain  it " 

"Don't  try.    All  the  Irish  believe  in  ghosts." 

"He  has  appeared  to  me  several  times  since 
the  war  began,  but  never  so  plainly  as  he  did 
to-day.  Larry,  I'm  not  an  hysterical  person, 
ami?" 

"Ye  are  not.'* 

"I  saw  him,  I  heard  him  speak.  I  cried  out 
to  him  for  counsel  and  he  bade  me  serve  the 
fatherland.  I  thought  he  laid  a  sword  on  my 
lap,  but  when  I  woke  I  found  it  was  the  signal 
flag.    Larry,  how  could  that  be?" 

"I'll  niver  tell  ye.  Things  are  as  they  are, 
Lady  Bobs.  .  .  .  What  did  ye  do,  then?" 

"I  went  and  hung  the  signal  in  the  window, 
and  now  I  am  free." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  55 

She  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  impulsively  he 
laid  his  hands  on  her  shoulders. 

"Lady  Bobs,  ye  may  be  settin'  yer  feet  on 
the  path  to  destruction,"  he  said  gravely. 

"Then  I'll  tread  it  gladly." 

Brooks  entered,  ushering  in  Mildred  Dow- 
ner and  Ted  Carter.  Just  for  a  second  Lady 
Trask  looked  at  them  and  did  not  see  them. 
But  they  saw  Captain  O'Toole's  hands  drop 
from  her  shoulders.  The  Irishman  recovered 
first. 

"Ah,  Lady  Bobs,  here  are  some  other  strag- 
glers hunting  belated  tea." 

Miss  Downer's  direct  glance  went  from  one 
to  the  other  of  them  swiftly. 

"I'm  afraid  we  intrude,"  she  said. 

"Not  at  all.  How  are  you?"  said  Lady 
Bobs,  forcing  herself  to  give  attention. 

"Well.    I  met  Mr.  Carter  on  the  doorstep.'^ 

"How  do,  Teddy?"  smiled  Lady  Bobs. 

He  clung  to  her  hand  like  a  grateful  puppy. 

"Just  came  in  to  say  good-bye,"  he  said. 

"You're  off?" 

"Yes.  Orders  came  at  noon  to-day.  I  go 
to-night." 

"Good  news,  isn't  it?"  said  Miss  Downer. 

"Rather,"  grinned  the  boy. 


56  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"When  is  your  leave  up,  Captain  O'Toole?"' 
she  inquired. 

"I  wish  you'd  ask  the  War  Office,"  he 
smiled. 

"Do  you  want  tea?"  asked  Lady  Bobs. 

"I've  had  mine,"  said  Mildred. 

"And  I  mine,"  echoed  the  Captain. 

"None  for  me,  I  hate  the  stuff,"  said  Carter. 

He  deliberately  attached  himself  to  Lady 
Bobs,  leaving  the  Irishman  to  Mildred. 

"You  haven't  paid  any  attention  to  me  for 
weeks,"  he  complained. 

"Haven't  I,  Teddy?"  she  smiled,  with  an 
attempt  at  lightness. 

"No,  and  right  now,  when  I've  come  to  say 
good-bye,  you  wish  I  were  in  Halifax." 

"That  isn't  true,"  she  replied. 

"Is  it  O'Toole  you  care  for?"  he  demanded. 

"What  foolishness,  Teddy." 

"Why  does  he  stand  with  his  hands  on  your 
shoulders,  like  your  lover?" 

"He  was,  in  fact,  giving  me  disinterested 
and  fatherly  advice." 

He  shrugged  his  impatient  disbelief,  and 
turned  to  mark  that  O'Toole  was  showing  Mil- 
dred some  war  cartoons  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  57 

"Maybe  I  shan't  see  you  again,"  said  the 
boy. 

"I  won't  believe  that,  Teddy." 

"I've  got  a  hunch,  I'll  get  mine,  this  go." 

She  laid  a  hand  on  his  arm. 

"Don't." 

"Would  you  care?" 

"Of  course  I'd  care." 

"You'd  say  that  to  any  poor  devil,  who  was 
going  out  I"  he  cried.  "You  mean  everything 
to  me.  I  love  you  so  that  I  have  to  lock  my 
mind  against  you  when  I  fly,  for  fear  I'll 
forget  what  I'm  doing.  The  last  fall  was  be- 
cause I  forgot." 

That  roused  her. 

"Oh,  Teddy,  dear,  it  mustn't  be  like  that!" 

"I  know,  but  it  is.  I've  felt  a  dirty  cad,  com- 
ing here  to  Sir  Ashton's  house  and  seeing  you, 
but  I've  never  said  a  word,  and  I  wouldn't  now, 
if  it  wasn't  for  the  hunch." 

"Don't  go,  Teddy,  don't  go  back,"  she  said 
impulsively. 

"I've  got  to  go.  You  see,  there's  Eng- 
land  " 

"But  England  isn't  your  mother  country." 

"No,  but  she's  my  grandmother.  If  my  own 
country  won't  come  in,  why  then,  by  God,  I'll 


58  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

fight  with  the  next  best.  WeVe  got  this  job 
to  do,  you  know.  I  like  to  think  I'm  doing  it 
for  you." 

Larry  and  Mildred  came  toward  them.  The 
boy  gave  an  angry  exclamation. 

"The  extraordinary  thing  to  me  is,  how  do 
they  run  their  spy  system?"  Mildred  was  say- 
ing. 

"Seems  to  be  a  good  one,"  agreed  Larry. 

"I  saw  Arnold  Gregg  yesterday,  invalided 
home  from  the  Somme  front.  He  told  me  that 
our  men  had  a  certain  new  method  of  attack 
that  was  working  fine,  and  all  of  a  sudden  the 
Boche  got  on  to  it.  I  had  reason  to  be  inter- 
ested and  I  asked  him  what  was  the  date  that 
the  Boche  got  on  to  it,  and  it  was  the  day  after 
that  luncheon  here,  when  Kendrick  came,  and 
Sir  Ashton  showed  us  the  diagram *' 

"Diagram?"  said  Lady  Bobs. 

"Don't  you  remember?  He  started  to  draw 
it  on  the  tablecloth  and  Lord  Kendrick  stopped 
him." 

"My  good  St.  Patrick,  do  ye  suppose  we 
had  a  spy  among  us?  Lady  Bobs,  are  ye  sure 
av  the  Duchess?"  demanded  O'Toole. 

They  all  laughed  at  that,  but  Lady  Bobs* 
heart  beat  in  her  throat. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  59 

Sir  Ashton  came  in  at  the  moment,  with  the 
Duchess. 

"I  picked  Ashton  up  on  the  street,  and 
brought  him  home.  No,  I  won't  sit  down, 
thanks.  I'm  cross  as  an  old  crow  and  I'm 
going  home  to  vent  it  on  the  Duke." 

"What's  the  trouble,  Duchess?"  asked  Bobs. 

"Trouble?  England's  the  trouble.  We're 
a  muddlin',  half-hearted  lot.  We  fight  like  a 
lot  of  old  ladies !  We  listen  to  labour,  we  dilly 
and  we  dally,  and  look  at  us.  We  should  have 
crushed  these  Huns  and  been  through  with  it, 
in  three  months." 

"Oh,  Duchess,  not  three  months!  There 
would  never  have  been  any  fun  in  three 
months,"  protested  Carter. 

"This  is  not  a  Bank  Holiday  organised  for 
your  sole  amusement,  young  man.  If  that 
country  of  yours  was  where  she  should  be,  she 
would  be  fighting  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  us 
at  this  moment." 

She  went  on  scolding  them.  O 'Toole  and 
Lady  Bobs  drew  an  infinitesimal  place  outside 
her  circle. 

"We  must  not  be  seen  talking  alone  together 
hereafter,"  he  said  in  a  normal  conversational 
tone. 


60  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Are  we  to  meet  somewhere?"  she  asked, 
following  his  lead. 

"Never.  We  must  be  like  this  always.  If 
you  speak  in  a  natural  voice  no  one  pays  atten- 
tion." 

"I  must  have  a  word.  Stay  on  after  the 
others  go.    I'll  manage  Ashton  somehow " 

He  turned  back  to  the  others. 

Carter  came  to  Lady  Bobs'  side. 

"May  I  have  a  few  moments  alone  with  you, 
before  I  go?" 

She  looked  troubled. 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  yes,  of  course,  Ted.  I'll  go  to  the  door 
with  you,  and  we'll  have  a  moment  or  two " 

He  went  to  Sir  Ashton. 

"Good-bye,  Sir  Ashton,  I'm  ofF  to-night." 

"Are  you,  my  boy?  Good  luck  to  you,"  said 
the  older  man  with  a  firm  handclasp. 

Carter  bowed  before  the  Duchess,  who  gave 
him  her  hand. 

"Good-bye.  I'm  proud  of  you,  and  I  apolo- 
gise for  abusin'  your  country." 

"Thanks.    I  won't  hold  it  against  you." 

He  shook  hands  with  Miss  Downer  and 
O'Toole.  Lady  Bobs  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
and  walked  with  him  out  of  the  room. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  61 

"That  boy  is  scandalously  in  love  with 
Roberta,  Ashton,"  remarked  the  Duchess. 

"Poor  lad — can  you  blame  him?"  he  smiled 
at  her. 

But  when  Lady  Bobs  came  back  his  quick 
tender  glance  swept  her  face.  The  Duchess 
ordered  them  all  to  go  home  because  Roberta 
looked  tired,  and  they  drifted  toward  the  hall. 
Ashton,  the  Duchess  and  Mildred  Downer 
walked  together.  O 'Toole  sauntered  behind 
with  Roberta.  Once  Mildred  Downer  looked 
back  at  them. 

"Larry,  I'll  make  my  plans  to  leave  to- 
morrow." 

"Leave?" 

"Certainly.  I  cannot  stay  here,  in  Ashton's 
house." 

"My  dear,  They'll  require  that  of  you." 

"Oh,  no!"  she  cried,  off  guard. 

"Take  care  I  .  .  .  That  is  why  you  are  valu- 
able to  Them.  It  is  your  position  here,  your 
sure  sources  of  information  that  They  want.'* 

"Oh,  but  it's  too  hideous " 

"You  are  committed  now." 

"Suppose  I  refuse?" 

"Too  late." 

"You  mean  They  would  ruin  me?" 


62  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Without  a  doubt." 

The  others  would  be  at  the  door  now,  in  a 
minute.  She  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  said 
slowly : 

"Very  well,  the  die  is  cast.  What  am  I  to 
do?" 

"Bobs,  my  dear,  the  Duchess  is  going,"  said 
Sir  Ashton. 

With  a  smile  at  O'Toole,  Lady  Bobs  joined 
her  guests. 


PART  TWO 


PART  TWO 

CHAPTER  I 

The  night  and  day  which  followed  Lady 
Trask's  interview  with  Captain  O'Toole  were 
so  full  of  conflicting  emotions  that  the  second 
night  found  her  nerves  at  the  breaking  point. 
One  moment  she  was  hot  with  fury  at  herself 
that  she  had  walked  into  a  trap,  during  the 
half  hysterical  trance  when  her  grandfather 
had  appeared  to  her:  the  next  moment  she  was 
glad  the  matter  was  settled  once  and  for  all. 
She  saw  her  decision  as  inevitable — irrevocable. 

But  when  her  mind  came  back  to  the  neces- 
sity of  staying  on  in  her  husband's  house,  play- 
ing him  false — that  thought  flagellated  her. 
And  yet,  what  constituted  the  treachery?  Ash- 
ton  served  his  country,  she  served  hers,  why 
should  an  equal  devotion  alter  their  personal 
relations  so  deeply?  If  she  were  a  Catholic, 
and  Ashton  a  Protestant,  each  serving  his  own 
church,  although  they  were  enemies,  this  diver- 
gence of  creeds  would  not  forbid  their  living 

65 


66  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

together.  Why  did  the  world  lay  such  furious 
stress  upon  "patriotism"?  What  did  the  word 
mean?  She  found  herself  in  a  position  now, 
where,  if  she  stayed  on,  she  was  disloyal  to 
Ashton,  if  she  disobeyed  Them,  and  left,  she 
brought  ruin  on  them  both. 

No  orders  or  messages  came  during  the 
forty-eight  hours  subsequent  to  her  talk  with 
O'Toole,  so  in  order  to  escape  for  a  little 
from  Ashton  and  her  intimate  friends,  she  had 
a  bag  packed,  and  went  off  to  their  country 
place,  leaving  word  for  her  husband  that  she 
had  acted  upon  an  impulse,  and  run  away  for 
a  sniff  of  spring  in  the  country. 

"Ah,  Lady  Trask,  Ma'am,  ye  look  as  if  ye 
was  in  sore  need  of  the  country,"  said  old  Mrs. 
Mallory,  the  housekeeper,  when  she  arrived  at 
Trask  Hall. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Mallory,  I  am.  I  need  a  good 
dose  of  fresh  air  and  quiet,  and  growing 
things." 

"The  garden  do  be  lovely.  Ma'am.  Mallory 
says  it's  wunnerful  growin'  weather  now.  Will 
ye  have  your  lunch  on  the  terrace.  Ma'am?" 

"I  will,  thanks." 

"I  hope  Sir  Ashton  is  well.  Ma'am." 

"He's  terribly  overworked." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  67 

"  'Tis  dreadful  times  we  be  livin'  thru,  Lady 
Trask." 

Lady  Trask  nodded,  looking  off  over  the 
gardens. 

"And  earth  keeps  up  its  terrible  composure," 
she  said  softly. 

"When  ye  think  of  all  the  dyin*,  over  there 
in  France,  an*  the  suflFerin'  here  at  home,  ye'd 
think  they'd  had  enuff  by  now,"  the  old  woman 
ran  on. 

"They  have,  Mallory.  But  this  war  is  like 
a  huge  magnetised  ball,  that  rolls  and  rolls, 
and  clutches  men  and  nations  to  it  by  irresisti- 
ble force.    No  one  can  stop  it " 

"Mr.  Lloyd  George  can,  can't  he?" 

"It  seems  not.  Let's  make  a  compact  not 
to  speak  of  the  war  while  I'm  here.  I  want  a 
vacation  from  it." 

"All  right.  Lady  Trask.  We  don't  speak  of 
il  much,  Mallory  an'  me.  We  got  no  sons  to 
go,  an'  things  is  about  the  same  down  here." 

"Yes,  thank  God,  they  seem  the  same  down 
here,"  said  Lady  Trask  fervently. 

She  gave  herself  up  to  this  illusion  with  pas- 
sion. She  sank  deep  into  the  lap  of  Surrey,  and 
emptied  her  mind  of  everything  save  the  event 
of  the  minute.    The  first  day  she  tramped  with 


68  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

her  dogs,  and  later  rode  for  hours  across  the 
peaceful  country.  No  wonder  poets  sang  of 
this  lovely  England,  no  wonder  soldiers  died 
with  her  name  on  their  lips.  Loyalty  to  the 
beauty  of  England,  she  understood  that. 

The  second  day  she  made  a  friend.  She 
was  pottering  about  the  garden,  with  old  Mal- 
lory,  when  a  very  small,  very  red-cheeked 
youngster  of  three  joined  them. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Lady  Trask  to  the 
intruder. 

He  smiled  engagingly.  He  displayed  an  old 
lard  bucket  and  a  battered  spoon. 

"That's  Hughie,  the  chuffer's  boy,"  ex- 
plained Mallory. 

"Dig?"  said  Hughie. 

Lady  Trask  nodded,  and  showed  him  a  safe 
place  for  his  operations.  He  began  with  vigour 
to  make  the  dirt  fly.  Old  Mallory  laughed  at 
him  and  went  on  with  his  work,  singing  in  a 
cracked  voice  a  tune  which  he  seemed  never  to 
complete.  The  sun  was  warm  on  their  backs, 
the  garden  was  sweet  and  still.  The  old  man 
and  the  tiny  man  were  soothing  companions. 
Lady  Bobs  almost  forgot. 

"Hughie  dig  deep,  d-e-e-p  hole,"  bragged 
the  infant. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  69 

Lady  Bobs  inspected  it.  She  tossed  in  two 
or  three  lumps  of  dirt. 

"There  are  my  troubles,  Hughie.  Bury 
them  deep  for  me." 

"Lady  plant  flowers?"  inquired  Hughie. 

"Do  you  suppose  troubles  do  blossom  into 
flowers,  Hughie?" 

Hughie  considered  it,  but  came  to  no  conclu- 
sion. 

"Hughie  plant  all  nice,"  he  promised,  put- 
ting back  the  earth,  and  patting  down  with  a 
chubby  fist. 

"Mallory,  doesn't  your  back  get  tired?" 
Lady  Bobs  demanded  after  a  while. 

"No,  Lady  Trask.  My  old  back  has  been 
bent  over  these  beds  for  thirty  year.  It's 
standin'  up  straight  that  tires  my  back!"  he 
chuckled.  "You  an'  Hughie  better  set  down 
in  the  shade,  an'  rest  yourselves." 

Hughie  accepted  the  invitation  and  they 
made  some  botanical  investigations  under  a 
nearby  tree.  They  watched  a  bird,  and  inves- 
tigated an  ant  hill.  Hughie  could  not  be 
called  fluent  in  conversation,  but  he  was  ap- 
preciative. His  smile  was  ready,  his  attention 
was  rapt.  There  was  something  very  restful 
about   Hughie.     Lady  Bobs  caught  herseK 


70  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

wishing  that  she  might  have  had  a  son  of  her 
own,  but  as  memory  thrust  at  her  the  face  of 
her  present,  she  shuddered  away  from  the 
thought  of  a  child.  She  concentrated  again  on 
the  sunny  garden. 

"My  mon,  John,  what  can  the  matter  be?" 
wheezed  the  eternal  question  of  old  Mallory. 

"What  is  the  next  line,  Mallory?"  she  asked 
idly. 

"I  dunno.  Lady  Trask.  Hughie  he  can  sing 
it.  Sing  *My  mon,  John,'  Hughie,"  he  or- 
dered. 

So  Hughie  lifted  voice  in  an  unintelligible 
jargon,  but  in  the  true  spirit  of  song: 

"Ma  mon,  Jawn,  wot  can'a  matta  be, 
At  I  sd'luve  lady  fair,  an  she  sd'nowt  luv 
me " 

Several  days  came  and  went,  days  spent  in 
the  open,  with  these  two  pleasant  comrades. 
Nothing  happened.  Lady  Bobs  slept  at  night, 
she  enjoyed  her  meals.  Surely  this  was  truth, 
the  outer  world  of  war,  and  death  and  intrigue 
was  the  dream.  The  week  slipped  by,  and  Fri- 
day brought  Ashton  and  Lord  Kendrick  to 
spend  the  week  end.    The  sight  of  her  husband 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  71 

brought  back  the  old  misery,  and  his  pleasure 
in  her  improved  health  and  colour,  intensified 
it.  As  for  Lord  Kendrick,  his  coming  sur- 
prised her  as  much  as  it  pleased  her. 

"I  hope  you  were  not  misled  this  time,"  she 
challenged  him.    "You  knew  that  I  was  here?" 

*'I  beheve  Trask  did  mention  it,"  he  replied. 

"No,"  she  laughed,  "I  did  not  think  you  came 
on  my  account!" 

"I  came  to  talk  over  important  matters  with 
your  husband,"  he  answered  simply. 

"Will  you  take  time  to  look  at  my  garden?" 

"Certainly.    Gardens  interest  me." 

She  left  them  to  their  own  devices,  after  this 
broad  hint  from  her  guest.  But  he  came  upon 
her,  the  next  day,  down  on  her  knees,  grubbing 
away,  with  Hughie  in  attendance.  He  stood 
looking  down  at  her  for  several  seconds,  but 
she  merely  nodded  and  went  on  with  her  work. 

"That's  good,"  he  said.  "Hello,  Boy,  who 
are  you?" 

"Hughie — go  away." 

Lady  Bobs  laughed. 

"Hughie  has  a  frankness  akin  to  your  own." 

"Who  is  Hughie?" 

"I  don't  know  exactly.  It  seems  to  be  a 
generic    term.      He's    very    comfortable    is 


72  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Hughie,  like  a  collie  pup,  only  less  bother." 

He  smiled  at  that. 

"Let  me  show  you  a  quicker  and  a  better  way 
to  do  that,"  he  said,  and  knelt  beside  her. 

"That's  your  secret,  isn't  it?  You  always 
know  a  quicker  and  a  better  way,"  she  re- 
marked. 

He  proceeded  with  the  demonstration.  He 
instructed  her  and  included  Hughie  in  the 
process.  Presently  they  were  all  working  hap- 
pily, silently.  Lady  Bobs  glanced  occasionally 
at  the  strong  brown  hands  which  worked  so 
deftly  at  the  roots  of  things. 

"You  look  almost  benevolent,"  she  teased 
him.  He  ignored  that.  He  called  Hughie  to 
see  something  he  had  unearthed,  and  knelt  with 
his  arm  about  the  boy,  as  he  explained  it.  The 
man  was  big  and  kind  and  elemental.  How 
could  he  be  at  the  same  time,  as  ruthless  as  she 
knew  him  to  be  ?  It  was  the  sheer  power  of  him 
that  fired  her  imagination. 

Lord  Kendrick  summoned  Mallory  for  a 
consultation  in  regard  to  a  certain  bug  which 
nibbled  plants  that  spring.  He  agreed  to  send 
him  a  solution  for  a  spray. 

"Eternal  struggle  in  gardens,"  she  said. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  73 

"Eternal  struggle  in  the  universe,"  he 
amended. 

"It  must  be." 

"Certainly.  Star  against  star,  planet  against 
planet,  animal  against  animal,  man  against 
man.    How  else  would  the  fit  survive?" 

She  made  a  sound  of  agreement  that  caught 
his  attention. 

"What  kind  of  woman  are  you?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  the  kind  of  woman  that  you  are  a  man." 

"You  think  you  know  what  kind  I  am?" 

"Certainly.    I  belong  to  your  kind." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Conqueror  1" 

"So?" 

"Decide  what  you  believe  to  be  the  ultimate 

good,  for  your  country,  for  the  race,  perhaps 

,  for  the  world.    Then  march  toward  it.    Kill, 

conquer,  take — ruthless,  if  you  like,  but  in  the 

end,  victorious.    That's  your  creed,  and  mine." 

He  stared  at  her  intently,  and  she  gave  him 
back  his  look. 

"I've  known  one,  maybe  two  women  like 
that,  in  savage  tribes." 

"I  belong  to  a  savage  tribe." 

"Indians,  eh?    Chippewa- Apache?" 

"Who  knows.    I've  reverted,  that's  all.'* 


74  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

She  went  back  to  her  grubbing  and  he  fol- 
lowed suit.  But  they  both  knew  that  some- 
thing had  happened  between  them. 

He  rather  avoided  her  after  that.  It  was  as 
if  she  had  scaled  his  wall,  invaded  his  tent,  he 
tried  to  push  her  out.  He  wanted  none  of 
her.  She  knew  perfectly  what  was  in  his  mind, 
but  she  no  longer  resented  it.  He  would  not 
acknowledge  it,  but  he  was  flying  a  danger  sig- 
nal. He  did  not  know,  as  she  did,  that  she  was 
already  upon  the  rocks  of  destruction,  that  she 
need  not  heed  his  warning.  He  protected  him- 
self with  Sir  Ashton,  but  when  he  thought  her 
unaware  of  him,  he  looked  at  her  all  the  time. 
If  she  lifted  swift,  comprehending  eyes  to  him, 
he  looked  away,  angrily. 

Sunday  brought  Cecily  Harrison  and  her 
newest  cavalier,  the  poet  Languedoc.  They 
motored  from  the  Harrisons'  place  unan- 
nounced, for  luncheon. 

"You  remember  Basil  Languedoc,  Bobs? 
Well,  well,  if  it  isn't  the  gruff  griffin!"  she 
smiled,  into  Kendrick's  frankly  annoyed  face. 
"I  won't  talk  to  you,"  she  soothed  him,  "I 
won't  even  look  at  you." 

"Thanks,"  said  he. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  75 

He  shook  hands  with  Languedoc,  with  an 
expression  of  amused  pity. 

"I'm  very  much  indebted  to  you,  Lord  Ken- 
drick,"  said  the  poet. 

"I  wonder  if  you  are!" 

The  great  man  took  refuge  with  his  host, 
while  the  others  chatted  and  laughed. 

"It  is  very  beautiful  here,"  said  Languedoc. 
"Beauty  is  the  one  thing  war  cannot  destroy." 

"It  destroys  Venice,"  protested  Lady  Ce- 
cily. 

"Nothing  can  destroy  Venice.  Venice  is 
the  dream  of  all  the  ages.  If  a  Doge's  Palace, 
if  St.  Marks  is  bombed,  then  the  genius  of  all 
the  world  must  dream  it  again,  greater,  truer, 
nearer  perfection." 

"We  must  dream  the  whole  shattered  world 
so,"  said  Lady  Cecily  earnestly. 

Sir  Ashton  led  his  unwilling  guest  back  to 
the  terrace  where  the  others  sat. 

"That  is  the  whole  question.  Who  will 
dream  it  nearer  the  true  perfection,  Teuton  or 
Anglo-Saxon?"  Lady  Bobs  said. 

"You  haven't  any  doubt,  have  you?"  the 
poet  inquired. 

"I'm  not  so  sure  as  the  rest  of  you  are,  that 


76  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

truth,  wisdom  and  uprightness  lie  with  our  race 
alone." 

*'Is  my  unruly  wife  attacking  the  Angles 
again?"  smiled  Sir  Ashton.  "True  American 
though  she  is,  she  takes  a  delight  in  belittling 
our  race." 

"I  don't  belittle  the  race.  I  belittle  the  race's 
vanity.  I  question  the  effectiveness  of  a  de- 
mocracy. I  dislike  muddled  thinking,  half- 
baked  idealism.  I  abhor  doing  the  selfish 
thing,  under  the  guise  of  great  altruism,  as 
England  and  America  so  often  do.  I  have 
more  respect  for  silent,  ruthless  grabbers,  my- 
self." 

"Prussian,  for  instance,"  suggested  Ken- 
drick  coldly. 

"Prussian  isn't  a  system,  or  a  country — it's 
a  state  of  mind.  You  are  Prussian,"  she  chal- 
lenged him. 

"Oh,  my  dear  Roberta  I"  protested  Ashton. 

"Certainly  he  is.  I've  read  my  history.  He 
has  spent  his  life  taking  what  he  thought  good 
for  England.  He  has  taken  it  ruthlessly,  si- 
lently, often  cruelly,  that  is  why  he  is  a  great 
man.    I  say  he  has  done  well." 

"Even  if  he  is  an  Angle,"  laughed  Ashton. 
"Roberta,  dear,  these  good  friends  may  mis- 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  77 

understand  you.  She  shares  the  behef  of  many 
people  that  democracies  are  too  undisciplined. 
It  may  be  one  of  the  lessons  of  this  war,  that 
our  democractic  governments  must  be  reor- 
ganised." 

"The  Germans  are  disciplined,  and  look  at 
the  result,"  said  Kendrick.  "The  danger  to 
the  world  of  that  autocracy  lies  here,  that  it  has 
taken  away  from  its  disciplined  masses  the 
power  to  make  their  laws  and  choose  their 
rulers." 

"But  England  refuses  several  hundred  mil- 
lion individuals,  of  every  colour  and  race  and 
religion,  the  right  to  make  their  laws  and 
choose  their  rulers.  England  does  not  count 
herself  a  menace  to  the  world.  No,  my  dears, 
we,  in  England,  grab  two  entire  continents  and 
part  of  a  third,  protesting  that  it  is  for  the 
good  of  the  world  at  large.  The  enemy  grabs 
without  oratory,"  she  laughed.  "If  grabbing 
is  wrong,  isn't  it  wrong  for  everybody?" 

"If  you  had  ever  seen  a  Malayan  prison,  if 
you  had  ever  gone  among  aboriginal  tribes  as 
I  have,  if  you  knew  the  wrong  and  oppression 
of  tyrants  of  their  own  race,  you'd  know  that 
England  civilises  where  she  conquers,"  Lord 
iKendrick  said. 


78  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I  don't  doubt  that  for  one  minute.  You 
said  a  moment  ago  that  good  government  could 
never  be  adequate  substitute  for  self-govern- 
ment, and  I  agree  with  your  statement.  I 
even  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  if  that  is  true  for 
the  German  autocracy,  it  is  equally  true  for 
the  English  and  American  democracies. 
America  is  true  child  of  England,  you  know. 
She  grabs  and  orates,  too." 

"What  am  I  going  to  do  with  her?"  begged 
Sir  Ashton. 

"You  ought  to  send  her  to  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  let  her  talk,"  laughed  Cecily. 

"Thanks,  I  '11  choose  my  own  tomb,"  pro- 
tested Lady  Bobs. 

"We  cannot  measure  nations  by  their  deeds 
alone,  any  more  than  we  can  in  the  case  of  in- 
dividuals," said  the  poet.  "England  civilises 
where  she  goes:  America  dreamed  a  great 
dream  of  a  free  country,  a  harbour  for  the  op- 
pressed. She  has  made  a  great  governmental 
experiment,  run  for  the  people  and  by  the 
people.  She  has  tested  and  proved  a  whole 
new  set  of  principles " 

"I  wish  she'd  hurry  and  fight  for  them," 
grumbled  Lord  Kendrick.  "If  she  don't,  she'll 
lose  them." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  79 

"Oh,  but  she  will  fight,"  cried  Languedoc. 
"She's  thousands  of  miles  away,  she's  slow  to 
anger,  but  when  America  sees  this,  as  a  war 
for  human  liberty,  she  will  sweep  into  Europe, 
an  army  with  banners." 

"Hear  him,  Bobs.  Isn't  he  a  proper  spokes- 
man for  your  country?"  said  Lady  Harrison. 

"He  is,"  admitted  Bobs  smilingly;  "no 
American  could  do  better,  not  even  Teddy 
Carter." 

"I  suppose  most  of  us  think  of  the  faults  of 
England  or  America,  as  we  do  of  the  faults  of 
our  mothers,"  said  Sir  Ashton.  "We  may  be 
aware  of  them,  but  we  do  not  get  excited  over 
them,  as  people  outside  the  family  may.  I 
think  the  world  has  fallen  into  ruins,  because 
we  have  all  our  values  wrong.  Not  only  here 
in  England,  but  all  over  the  whole  world.  We 
put  the  emphasis  upon  systems  and  things,  not 
on  the  human  individual.  We  must  scrap  a 
good  part  of  what  we  have  accumulated,  and 
begin  again.  I  disagree  with  Roberta,  because 
I  feel  that  we  must  build  on  greater  freedom, 
not  on  less,  as  a  foundation.  We  must  make 
a  world  with  human  welfare  as  the  standard. 
England  and  America  wiU  see  this  need,  be- 
cause it  is  part  of  the  vision  they  both  saw. 


80  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

before  they  got  off  on  the  wrong  track.  If 
freedom  and  self-government  for  their  colonies 
is  the  next  step,  they  will  take  it.  If  they  are, 
as  we  believe,  the  forward  looking  nations  of 
the  earth,  they  will  not  hesitate." 

Sir  Ashton  paused  a  moment,  and  turned 
his  earnest  face  toward  his  wife. 

"You  see,  dear,  it  really  is  like  the  belief  you 
have  in  the  basic  goodness  and  understanding 
of  your  mother." 

"Perhaps  it  is  because  I  cannot  remember 
my  mother  that  I  am  so  Philistine,"  she  an- 
swered him,  with  equal  earnestness. 

"Oh,  Ashton,  don't  convert  her,"  begged  Ce- 
cily. "It  is  so  nice  to  know  somebody  who 
still  says  'German'  and  'Prussian'  right  out 
loud  with  no  apology,  Uke  Bobs.  I've  adopted 
it,  myself.  I  go  round  now,  telling  everybody 
I  am  pro-German.    It  makes  an  awful  splash." 

"Cecily,  your  love  of  a  splash  will  get  you 
into  trouble  one  of  these  days,"  Sir  Ashton 
warned  her. 

A  servant  came  across  the  terrace,  with  a 
note  for  Bobs. 

"By  messenger.  Lady  Trask.  He  did  not 
wait  for  an  answer.  Luncheon  is  served. 
Madam." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  81 

Lady  Bobs  took  the  envelope.  She  knew 
what  it  contained. 

"Come  along,  friends,  and  have  some  food. 
Let  us  forget  our  national  troubles.  The  sun 
shines,  and  there  is  to-day,"  Bobs  said,  leading 
the  way,  with  Lord  Kendrick. 

"A  truce,  a  truce,"  she  smiled  at  him,  as  she 
tucked  the  unopened  message  into  the  lace  at 
her  breast. 


CHAPTER  n 

The  dreaded  orders  had  come.  She  was 
directed  to  get  from  Lord  Kendrick  certain 
facts  in  regard  to  tactics  in  the  Somme  region, 
and  report  at  once.  It  had  been  impossible  to 
arrange  for  a  word  alone  with  her  guest,  and 
obviously  out  of  the  question  to  extract  even 
an  opinion  from  him,  in  general  conversation. 
So  Lady  Bobs  went  back  to  town  and  sought 
counsel  from  O 'Toole. 

He  came  at  once  to  see  her,  apparently  by 
accident,  at  Lady  Harrison's.  She  explained 
to  him  the  utter  folly  of  trying  to  get  any  in- 
formation from  Lord  Kendrick.  She  knew  the 
man.  It  was  useless  to  try,  as  well  as  danger- 
ous. 

"My  dear  lady,"  said  O'Toole,  "you  will 
soon  be  learnin'  that  our  present  masters  never 
heard  that  word  'impossible.'  It  doesn't  exist 
in  their  language.  When  They  order  a  thing 
done,  it  is  done.  If  They  have  asked  that  in- 
formation, ye  must  get  ut.  If  not  through  the 
silent  Kendrick,  through  some  other  reliable 

82 


The  Cluix?h  of  Circumstance  83 

authority.  My  advice  is,  waste  no  toime  sayin* 
it  can't  be  done — just  go  ahead  an'  do  it." 

They  were  interrupted  at  this  point  and  it 
was  not  until  somewhat  later  that  he  drifted 
to  her  side  again. 

"We  must  be  careful  about  meetin',"  he 
warned  her. 

*'I  think  the  less  careful  we  are,  the  better. 
You  might  develop  a  sudden  passion  for  my 
society,  Larry.  My  flirtatious  past,  and  yours, 
would  prove  an  alibi." 

"Delighted,"  he  smiled. 

"I  shall  not  hold  you  strictly  to  account  in 
matters  amorous,  but  your  reputation  as  Lo- 
thario will  help  us." 

"The  affair  is  on!"  he  grinned. 

In  the  weeks  that  followed,  the  flirtation  of 
Lady  Bobs  and  Larry  O'Toole  amused  all 
their  intimates,  and  set  some  tongues  a-clacking 
outside  their  own  group. 

"What  is  this  boy  and  girl  affair,  Bobs? 
(You'd  think  you  and  Larry  were  seventeen." 

"Takes  an  Irishman  to  rejuvenate  you," 
nodded  Lady  Bobs.  "Love  with  a  brogue  is 
delicious." 

"I  shall  dismiss  the  Languedoc  and  get  me 


84  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

an  Irishman.  Basil  is  too  lyric.  I  need  a 
Celtic  renaissance,  myself." 

"Yours  is  the  international  soul  we  hear  so 
much  about,  Cecily,"  laughed  Lady  Bobs. 

Tea  and  banter  and  laughter  camouflaged 
much  serious  planning  between  Lady  Bobs  and 
her  cavalier.  The  information  about  the 
Somme  front  she  obtained  and  forwarded. 
They  worked  together  on  most  of  their  "assign- 
ments," as  they  called  them. 

Lady  Trask's  connections  branched  in  every 
direction.  She  knew  the  Americans  who  lived 
in  London,  she  met  those  of  importance  who 
came  there  on  business,  or  pleasure.  Fre- 
quently she  was  able  to  shed  light  on  Enghsh 
and  American  diplomatic  relations  which  was 
very  helpful  to  Konigstrasse. 

She  hated  with  every  fibre  of  her  being  the 
equivocal  position  she  was  in,  but  having 
walked  into  it  of  her  own  volition,  she  hard- 
ened herself  and  went  ahead,  in  what  she  be- 
lieved to  be  her  highest  duty. 

One  day  as  she  was  walking  home,  she  met 
Mildred  Downer,  who  fell  in  step  beside  her. 

"Where  have  you  been  hiding,  Mildred? 
We  haven't  seen  you  for  ages,"  Lady  Trask 
said  to  her. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  85 

"Oh,  IVe  been  about,"  the  girl  answered 
evasively. 

"Busy,  I  suppose." 

"Awf  ly.  What  are  you  doing  with  your- 
self?" 

"The  usual  things.  Odd  how  we  get  ad- 
justed to  war,  as  if  it  were  our  natural  state." 

"Yes,  queer  nation,  we  are.  They  say  we're 
not  adaptable,  but  look  at  us.  Wonderful,  I 
call  it." 

Lady  Trask  made  some  reply,  but  the  girl 
broke  in  on  it. 

"I  have  been  wanting  to  see  you." 

"I've  asked  you  to  dinner  twice,"  Lady 
Trask  reminded  her. 

"I  know,"  uncomfortably. 

"Why  didn't  you  come?"    ' 

"I— couldn't." 

"You  mean  you  were  engaged  both  nights?" 

"No.  I  cannot  endure  some  one  who  was 
sure  to  be  there!" 

"How  ridiculous!     Who  was  it?" 

"Captain  O'Toole." 

"You  dislike  Larry?  You  unnatural  wo- 
man!   I  didn't  suppose  it  could  be  done." 

The  girl's  ugly  face  flushed. 

"I  think  he's  a  sneak  and  a  bounder," 


86  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Really,  Mildred,  he  is  a  friend,  you 
know " 

"That*s  why  it  is  so  difficult.  Because  I 
like  you  better  than  any  woman  in  London,'* 
she  added  miserably. 

Lady  Trask  turned  an  amused  glance  upon 
her,  but  the  real  feeling  in  Miss  Downer's 
face  stopped  her. 

"Thank  you,  Mildred.  Because  you  like 
me,  is  no  reason  for  your  liking  all  my  friends. 
I'm  sorry  Captain  O'Toole  keeps  you  from 
coming  to  us,  for  Ashton  and  I  are  both  fond 
of  you." 

"Do  you  know  about  Captain  O'Toole?'* 
Mildred  asked. 

Lady  Trask  looked  at  her  quickly. 

"Know  what  about  him?" 

"He  keeps  a  mistress." 

"Does  he?" 

"He  makes  love  to  you  in  public ** 

Lady  Trask  flushed. 

"My  dear  Mildred,  nobody  takes  the  Irish 
seriously,  except  the  Irish!  Larry  O'Toole 
and  I  amuse  each  other.  He  makes  love  as  a 
baby  cries,  or  a  bird  sings.  It's  his  native 
speech." 

"Oh,  I  know  you  don't  care  anything  about 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  87 

him.  It's  just  that  I  cannot  bear  to  have  him 
make  you  ridiculous,"  Mildred  protested. 

"My  child,  you're  the  only  person  he  is  mak- 
ing ridiculous.  Put  poor  Larry  out  of  your 
mind.  His  fascinations  will  not  be  fatal  to  me, 
I  assure  you." 

"I'm  not  so  sure." 

Again  Lady  Trask  glanced  at  her. 

"Why  do  you  hate  him  so?"  she  inquired. 

"I  hate  palaver.  I  distrust  all  of  his  coun- 
trymen, but  him  in  particular." 

"He  hasn't  given  you  any  specific  cause  to 
hate  him?" 

"He  has  offered  me  his  insulting  homage,  as 
he  does  all  women " 

"Pooh,  Where's  your  sense  of  humour?  For- 
get him." 

"I  wish  I  could!"  exclaimed  Mildred  Dow- 
ner passionately,  and  with  a  hasty  farewell  she 
turned  and  walked  away. 

Lady  Trask  looked  after  her  in  sheer  amaze- 
ment. Later  the  talk  recurred  to  her,  and  she 
spoke  to  Larry  about  it.    He  laughed. 

"It  might  prove  serious,  Larry.  What  did 
you  do  to  her?" 

"I  courted  her,  at  a  dull  house  party,  and 
kissed  her  on  the  stairs." 


88  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

» 

"It  must  have  been  dull!    Did  she  mind?" 

"She  did.     She  took  me  seriously.'* 

"Larry!" 

"I  had  to  tell  her  the  plain  truth,  poor  soul. 
She's  got  no  sense  of  humour." 

"Make  no  mistake,  you  have  an  enemy  there, 
and  she  is  no  fool." 

"I'd  rather  have  her  as  an  enemy  than  have 
to  kiss  her  again." 

"What  did  you  do  it  for?" 

"Experiment.    She  looked  so  unkissed." 

"For  a  clever  man,  you're  stupid  some- 
times." 

He  shrugged  impatient  shoulders. 

"Even  clever  women  fall  into  that  blunder. 
Let's  drop  ^liss  Downer  and  talk  of  some- 
thing interesting." 

As  the  Captain  was  leaving,  he  met  Sir 
Ashton  at  the  door.  When  the  Irishman  had 
gone,  Trask  came  quickly  across  the  room  to 
Roberta  and  put  his  arms  about  her. 

"Ashton?"  she  said,  surprised. 

"Dearest,  I  want  to  say  something  that  is 
in  my  mind.  You  will  not  misunderstand  if 
your  heart  beats  against  mine." 

She  stood  still  in  his  embrace. 

"Is  it  about  Larry?" 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  89 

"Do  you  find  him  so  amusing  that  you  can- 
not do  with  less  of  his  society?" 

"You  think  I  see  too  much  of  him,  Ashton?" 

"It  is  what  other  people  think,  dear,  who  do 
not  know  you  as  I  do." 

"Do  they  matter?" 

"I  think  your  dignity  and  fineness  matter. 
I  cannot  bear  to  have  your  name  rolled  over  on 
many  tongues." 

She  freed  herself  from  his  arms,  but  he  drew 
her  back  with  tenderness. 

"Roberta,  if  I  could  only  fill  your  whole 
heart  and  mind  as  you  do  mine." 

"Ashton,  please "  she  said,  in  protest.  "I 

will,  of  course,  see  less  of  Larry,  if  you  object." 

"Don't  put  it  so — *if  I  object' — I  merely 
call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  people  talk, 
and  I  leave  the  matter  to  your  own  good  taste, 
my  dear." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said.  Then,  that  she 
might  not  pour  out  to  him  the  whole  wretched 
story,  she  tm*ned  and  left  the  room  without  a 
word. 

Sir  Ashton  watched  her  go  with  a  sigh.  The 
slight  frown  that  creased  his  forehead  deep- 
ened. There  was  in  Sir  Ashton  Trask  a  deep, 
instinctive  reverence  for  women.    He  had  no 


90  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

understanding  of  the  modern  free  and  easy 
relationship  between  men  and  women.  While 
he  was  in  no  way  so  old-fashioned  that  he  in- 
sisted upon  a  pedestal  for  "the  sex,"  his  mo- 
dernity wanted  to  add  to  all  the  old  courtesies 
and  tenderness,  natural  toward  women,  the 
new  mental  companionshp. 

He  marked  with  dismay  the  younger  gener- 
ation's desire  to  take  full  advantage  of  the 
comradeship,  but  to  be  excused  from  all  the 
old  observances,  which  had  been  the  perqui- 
sites of  what  they  now  scornfully  referred  to  as 
"chivalry."  He  saw  that  women,  even  so  fine 
a  woman  as  his  wife,  did  not  resent  this,  but 
rather  encouraged  it. 

It  may  be,  that  when  reverence  for  women 
survives  in  a  man  of  Sir  Ashton's  type,  it 
means  that  he  has  been  deeply  influenced  at 
some  youthful  period,  by  a  worshipful  woman, 
a  mother  perhaps.  It  was  so  in  his  case.  His 
mother  had  been  an  unusual  woman  of  strong 
character  and  distinguished  mentaHty.  Her 
friendship  with  her  son  had  been  based  upon 
mutual  respect  and  admiration.  To  the  out- 
sider they  might  have  seemed  undemonstrative, 
but  there  were  fine  shades  of  understanding 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  91 

between  them,  that  needed  no  words.  Theirs 
was  a  true  oneness  of  spirit. 

The  one  great  and  poignant  sorrow  of  Ash- 
ton's  life  had  been  her  death,  which  happened 
two  years  before  his  marriage.  She  had  given 
her  son  the  fine  inheritance  of  a  courteous 
mind,  and  a  human  sympathy,  so  broad  that 
it  knew  no  confines. 

He  had  become  philosopher,  thinker,  almost 
ascetic,  when  the  beautiful  Roberta  had  so 
upset  his  poise.  His  passion  for  her,  so  swift 
and  consuming,  was  a  total  surprise  to  him, 
overwhelming  in  its  consequences. 

It  made  of  him  an  irresistible  lover.  His 
ardour  and  his  perfect  breeding  had  satisfied 
two  needs  in  Roberta's  nature.  She  was  still 
a  girl  when  she  married  him,  at  twenty-two,  a 
little  bewildered  by  his  courtship. 

In  the  years  that  followed  he  never  loved 
her  less.  He  assayed  her  nature,  as  the  miner 
does  his  gold  dust.  The  pure  metal  he  treas- 
ured, and  from  the  alloy  he  courteously  looked 
away. 

He  came  to  know  that  she  had  known  for 
her  background  traditions  very  different  from 
those  of  his  mother,  and  that  her  values  were 
consequently  often  puzzling.    He  learned  that 


92  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

he  did  not  fill  her  imagination  as  she  did  his, 
and  while  her  incurable  coquetry  troubled  him, 
he  did  not  permit  himself  to  judge  her  for  it. 
It  was  something  he  could  not  understand,  pos- 
sibly a  trait  due  to  her  American  birth  and 
training — he  had  noticed  it  in  other  American 
women.  It  was  a  wound  in  his  heart  always, 
but  he  never  let  a  hint  of  it  pass  his  lips  or 
even  creep  into  his  eyes. 

It  was,  then,  a  special  anxiety  that  had 
broken  his  reticence  in  the  matter  of  Captain 
O 'Toole,  and  his  too  obvious  admiration.  Sir 
Ashton  had  an  apperception  of  a  certain 
shadow  of  distrust  which,  to  his  sixth  sense, 
began  to  settle  about  Captain  O' Toole,  as  in- 
distinguishable as  a  colour  spectrum,  as  inde- 
finable as  an  aura. 


CHAPTER  ni 

Lady  Bobs  warned  Captain  O'Toole  that 
they  were  overplaying  the  comedy  of  love, 
since  people  were  talking  about  it,  and  they 
agreed  to  let  their  "aiFair"  drop  into  the  back- 
ground,— planning  their  "casual"  meetings 
more  carefully.  It  interfered  somewhat  with 
their  work,  not  to  see  each  other  daily,  but  it 
was  only  one  of  the  many  and  growing  difficul- 
ties which  beset  their  path. 

It  so  happened  that  Lady  Trask  encoun- 
tered Lord  Kendrick  several  times,  quite  by 
accident,  during  these  days  which  followed  his 
visit  to  them.  On  each  occasion  they  spoke  to 
each  other  a  language  shorn  of  trivialities. 
Lady  Bobs  felt  no  voluntary  response  in  him, 
but  rather  an  instinctive  one.  She  was,  as  she 
had  said,  of  his  kind. 

He  fired  her  imagination  completely,  and 
the  thought  of  him  began  to  dominate  her 
mind.  She  wanted  to  break  down  his  reserves, 
to  penetrate  his  mystery,  to  see  him  surge  to 
the  full  tide  of  himself. 

93 


94  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

She  began  to  deliberately  plan  to  see  him. 
It  was  easy  to  inform  herself  of  his  probable 
whereabouts,  so  long  as  he  stayed  in  London. 
She  learned  what  an  exhausting  proportion  of 
his  waking  hours  he  spent  in  the  War  Office. 
He  allowed  himself  no  relaxation.  Once  she 
met  him  on  the  street  and  he  walked  with  her 
a  little  way.  She  urged  him  to  go  away  and 
weed  geranium  beds. 

"Cannot  be  done." 

"The  life  you  lead  will  kill  you." 

"Why  not?  That's  not  the  worst  that  may 
come  to  a  soldier.  You  cannot  get  an  army  of 
five  million  men,  out  of  peaceful  England, 
without  effort." 

"Come  with  us  to  Surrey  for  the  week-end, 
or  ask  us  to  come  with  you." 

"You  want  to  see  my  place?" 

"Yes." 

"I'll  try  to  manage  it.  Can  you  come  on 
short  notice?" 

"Give  me  ten  minutes." 

"Good,  no  foolishness  about  you." 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is — ^much,"  she  replied. 

To  her  surprise  and  deep  satisfaction  he 
summoned  them  on  Saturday  and  drove  them 
out  himself. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  95 

"It  will  be  dull  for  you.  I've  asked  no  one 
else,"  he  explained  to  Lady  Bobs. 

"I  like  you  better  when  you  assure  me  that 
I  am  incidental — a  side  issue  to  your  war  talk 
with  Ashton." 

"Women  have  to  be  side  issues  in  war  time." 

"What  pleasant  old-fashioned  talk  is  this?" 
inquired  Sir  Ashton.  "Women  are  as  impor- 
tant as  men  in  this  war." 

"They  only  talk  more  during  this  war.  They 
have  always  carried  on  the  civil  life  while  men 
fight." 

"But  civil  life  has  never  been  so  complicated 
as  it  is  now,  Kendrick.  This  war  could  not 
have  been  fought  without  our  women." 

"You  cannot  eliminate  us  from  your  uni- 
verse, Lord  of  Creation.  We're  just  as  essen- 
tial as  you  are,"  laughed  Roberta. 

"Hm — "  said  he,  unconvinced. 

Lord  Kendrick's  country  place  was  one  of 
his  hobbies.  He  frankly  delighted  in  it,  as  he 
did  in  his  geranium  beds.  Lady  Bobs  thought 
that  his  house  expressed  him,  in  its  simple, 
almost  military,  uprightness,  no  soft  effem- 
inate trifles  here,  but  always  a  fine  sense  of 
values.  The  things  he  had  about  him  were 
choice. 


96  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

They  sat  long  after  dinner,  talking.  Lord 
Kendrick  was  at  his  ease  and  at  his  best,  as 
host.  He  liked  Ashton  Trask,  and  his  eyes 
were  often  upon  his  beautiful  wife.  He  told 
of  some  of  his  experiences  in  Egypt.  He  piled 
up  Arabian  Nights  adventures  for  their  de- 
light, as  simply  as  one  tells  fairy  tales  to  chil- 
dren. In  spite  of  his  modesty,  Lady  Bobs  saw 
always  the  dominant  central  figure,  moulding 
events  to  his  purpose.  He  was  the  hero  of 
her  thoughts,  not  this  gracious  host. 

The  next  day  he  showed  them  his  gardens. 
While  Lady  Bobs  wandered  there,  her  hus- 
band and  their  host  talked  over  their  many 
joint  problems.  At  sunset  they  motored  back 
to  town,  and  for  the  first  time  in  many  weeks 
Lady  Bobs  felt  at  peace.  Lord  Kendrick 
drove  the  car  and  she  sat  beside  him.  She  liked 
to  turn  and  look  at  him,  straight  and  concen- 
trated on  the  task  in  hand.  The  road  was  wet 
from  rain  and  he  gave  his  full  attention  to  the 
car  and  not  to  her.    But  she  did  not  mind. 

It  seemed  to  occur  to  him  finally  that  he  was 
a  neglectful  host. 

"I'm  not  much  of  a  cavalier,"  said  he. 

"I  prefer  the  roundhead!"  she  retorted  and 
was  happy  at  his  laugh. 


The  Clutch  of  Circiunstance  97 

When  he  left  them  at  their  door,  she  felt 
that  these  two  days  marked  a  new  era,  they 
were  friends  now. 

That  night  she  went  over  every  word,  every 
look  they  had  exchanged,  like  a  school  girl. 
Her  heart  beat  at  the  memory  of  his  smile, 
even  while  she  told  herself  that  this  was  folly. 

She  induced  Ashton  to  ask  Lord  Kendrick 
to  dinner  once  or  twice,  in  the  days  that  fol- 
lowed, and  he  came.  She  knew  that  he  went 
nowhere  else  and  she  tried  to  find  in  that  fact 
something  for  her  growing  madness  to  feed 
upon. 

The  nights  when  he  came  she  spent  hours 
on  her  toilet.  She  asked  no  other  women 
guests,  although  Cecily  and  the  Duchess  be- 
rated her  for  it.  She  guarded  her  tongue  be- 
cause she  knew  he  disliked  chatter.  She  called 
up  every  resource  she  had  into  battle  line,  for 
deep  in  her  heart  she  knew  that  this  man 
stirred  her  as  she  had  never  been  stirred  be- 
fore— that  life  could  hold  nothing  for  her  so 
wonderful  as  his  capitulation. 

She  looked  in  vain  for  signs  of  special  inter- 
est on  his  part.  He  looked  at  her,  he  listened 
to  her,  once  in  a  while  he  laughed  at  her,  but 
there    was    no    lingering  touch  of  hands,  no 


98  The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

caress  of  the  eyes  to  treasure.  She  was  not 
even  sure  that  he  was  sufficiently  aroused  to 
protect  himself  against  her. 

Into  this  growing  absorption  came  the  sharp 
and  constant  rap  for  attention  from  Them. 
They  grew  greedy  of  news,  and  exacting. 
Sudden  and  exhausting  hot  weather  descended 
upon  London,  and  Lady  Bobs  began  to  show 
the  terrific  strain  she  was  living  under.  Ash- 
ton  begged  her  to  move  into  the  country  but 
she  dared  not,  lest  Konigstrasse  order  her  back 
to  town. 

"Really,  Bobs,  you  may  not  care  about  your 
health,  but  haven't  you  any  vanity?"  de- 
manded Lady  Cecily,  who  spent  an  occasional 
day  in  town. 

"Am  I  as  bad  as  that?'* 

"You  are.  You  look  fifty — a  haggard 
fifty." 

"Cecily,  you  brute!" 

"Is  anything  the  matter,  old  dear?" 

"Only  that  'the  world  is  out  of  joint.'  " 

"But  you  weren't  'sent  to  make  it  right.* 
It's  out  of  joint  for  all  of  us,  but  I  don't  let 
that  interfere  with  my  facial  massage.'* 

Roberta  smiled  at  her.  Cecily  seemed  like 
a  child,  laughing  in  a  tornado,  while  the  great 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance  99 

forces  were  swinging  her,  Roberta,  in  ever 
widening  circles. 

"Come  back  with  me,  Bobs,  and  spend  a 
week  in  bed.    I'll  let  you  alone." 

"I  cannot,  dear." 

"But  what  is  there  to  keep  you  in  this  fur- 
nace?" 

"I  keep  busy." 

"We  work  in  the  country,  too.  Red  Cross 
and  knitting  and  the  rest  of  it.  We're  not 
abandoning  England." 

"I  feel  that  I  must  stay  on  a  little  longer. 
Later  I  will  come,  if  you  will  have  me,  and 
collapse  upon  your  hospitality." 

Lady  Cecily  was  obliged  to  abandon  her,  but 
she  telephoned  Ashton  her  opinion  that  Ro- 
berta looked  a  wreck.  She  passed  on  her  anx- 
iety to  the  Duchess  of  Wrowe,  her  neighbour 
in  the  country,  and  she,  too,  made  a  visit  to 
Roberta  Trask. 

"I've  come  to  take  you  home  with  me,"  she 
announced. 

"Cecily  told  you  I  looked  a  fright?'* 

"She  did." 

"She's  a  cat!  She  ought  to  know  that  the 
news  that  you've  lost  your  looks  runs  faster 


100         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

than  the  news  that  you've  lost  your  morals," 
protested  Lady  Bobs. 

"You  can't  hide  from  me  behind  epigrams, 
my  dear.  I'm  an  old  woman  and  I've  gone 
through  nearly  everything.  I  know  that  peo- 
ple only  look  as  you  do  when  it's  a  sickness  of 
the  mind.  Why  not  let  an  old  friend  share  her 
experience  and  donate  her  wisdom?" 

"Thank  you,  dear  Duchess,"  said  Roberta, 
really  touched.  "It's  only  the  cosmic  sickness, 
and  the  heat,  I  do  assure  you.  I  will  run  away 
soon.  You  and  Cecily  must  not  worry  about 
me." 

The  Duchess  shook  her  head,  and  patted 
Lady  Bobs'  cold  hand. 

"How's  the  amusing  Irishman?'* 

"Larry?  The  heat  rather  melts  his  wit,  I'm 
afraid." 

"He's  stm  in  London?'* 

"Yes." 

"Very  long  leave,  isn't  it?'* 

"It  seems  to  be." 

"Too  bad  we  can't  have  only  the  dull  people 
sacrificed  in  the  war,  and  start  the  new  world 
with  the  witty  ones,"  said  the  old  woman. 

"Wouldn't  a  uniformly  witty  world  be  dull. 
Duchess?"  objected  Roberta. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         101 

So  she  kept  up  her  guard  until  her  visitor 
left,  but  when  she  was  gone  she  acknowledged 
to  herself  how  she  wished  they  would  let  her 
alone.  Larry's  phrase  "The  path  to  destruc- 
tion" was  often  in  her  mind  these  days.  If  her 
feet  were  being  whirled  down  that  path,  she 
must  not  drag  her  friends  with  her,  if  she  could 
help  it. 

She  sat  in  the  half  darkened  drawing-room, 
where  the  Duchess  had  left  her,  her  hands 
clasped  over  her  eyes.  She  did  not  notice 
Brooks'  entrance,  nor  grasp  his  announcement. 
It  was  only  when  she  looked  up  and  saw  Lord 
Kendrick  standing  before  her  that  she  came 
to  herself.  She  did  not  rise,  nor  apologise  for 
the  attitude  of  dejection  in  which  he  had  sur- 
prised her.  A  deep  flush  crept  up  over  her 
pale  face  and  dyed  her  neck,  that  was  all. 

"Are  you  ill?"  he  asked,  without  greeting. 

"My  mind  is  ill." 

"What  ails  it?" 

She  made  no  reply  for  several  seconds. 

"What  do  you  conceive  to  be  the  highest 
human  loyalty?" 

"A  man's  loyalty  to  his  countiy,"  he  an- 
swered promptly. 


102         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Deeper  than  his  duty  to  his  wife — ^to  his 
mother?" 

"His  country  is  his  mother." 

"You'd  have  him  sacrifice  his  mother  to  his 
country?" 

"If  need  be — ^yes." 

Another  silence  came  upon  them,  and  again 
she  broke  it. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  world.  Lord 
Kendrick?" 

"Stupidity.  Humans  always  pay  for  it  with 
blood  and  tears." 

"Are  you  sorry  for  them,  when  they  pay?" 

"Not  very.  There  is  no  law  requiring  stu- 
pidity, you  know." 

He  wandered  across  the  room,  and  his  voice 
came  out  of  the  shadows  like  that  of  an  im- 
placable Fate. 

"You're  like  the  God  of  the  old  testament — 
a  pitiless  god  of  vengeance.  Your  name  is 
Baal." 

"Do  you  prefer  a  sentimental  God,  weeping 
over  Israel?" 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  made  no  answer. 
Her  heart  beat  so  loud  she  feared  he  would 
hear  it.  She  noted  his  quick  step,  now  here 
now  there,  in  the  room.    He  was  perturbed. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         103 

He  had  come  to  her  of  his  own  accord.  If  she 
could  know  one  moment  of  his  love,  then  let 
his  god  of  vengeance  strike  I  So  absorbed  was 
she  in  her  own  imaginings  that  his  voice  star- 
tled her  out  of  the  shadows. 

"I  came  for  a  special  reason." 

"Of  course." 

"I  am  sailing  at  dawn " 

"For  France?" 

He  ignored  the  question. 

"It  so  happened  that  the  last  casualty  list 
came  to  my  hands,  and  I  saw  a  name  that  I 
knew  would  hurt  you.    I  came  to  tell  you " 

"Yes?" 

"It  was  Carter,  the  young  American.  They 
downed  him,  after  a  brilliant  fight  on  his  part. 
He  got  his  enemy,  but  he  lost  his  life  doing  it." 

He  waited  and  she  groped  in  her  mind  for 
something  to  say,  because  he  expected  it  of 
her. 

"Teddy — Teddy  Carter,"  she  repeated  stu- 
pidly. 

"Yes." 

"Poor  Teddy!  He  felt  this  would  be  his 
last  flight,"  she  said. 

"He  came  to  save  me  pain,  he  came  to  save 
me  pain."    Her  mind  beat  it  over  triumph- 


104         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

antly.  She  forgot  Teddy's  death  in  the  hap- 
piness that  swept  over  her. 

"Is  that  all  you  have  to  say?"  he  demanded. 

He  stood  over  her  now,  and  she  looked  at 
him. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  say?" 

"This  boy  loved  you.  He  wore  the  fact  on 
his  face  for  every  one  to  see " 

"Poor  Teddy!" 

Why  didn't  he  let  her  alone?  Why  did  he 
pump  her  mind  for  words  about  Teddy  Carter? 

"Poor  Teddy r  he  repeated.  "That's  a  fine 
epitaph  for  a  good  soldier  from  the  woman  he 
loved." 

"Why  do  you  bother  about  him  so?  I  did 
not  want  him  to  love  me — I  did  not  love  him." 

"That  needs  no  saying,"  scornfully. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

"Your  kind  never  knows  love." 

If  he  had  looked  at  her  he  might  have  seen 
the  danger  signals,  but  he  did  not;  he  went 
on: 

"You're  all  alike,  vain,  empty-headed  pea- 
cocks, using  men  for  your  purposes " 

She  laughed  at  that,  with  a  sound  that 
stopped  him. 


The  Clutxjh  of  Circumstance         105 

"A  lecture  on  passion  from  a  human  ma- 
chine," she  taunted  him. 

"I've  had  no  time  for  emotion,  but  I'm  no 
machine.  When  my  woman  comes,  if  she  does 
come,  I'll  love  her  as " 

"You  need  not  tell  me  how  you'll  love  her — 
I  know!  It  will  be  like  a  hurricane  that  will 
toss  you  hither  and  thither,  sweeping  every- 
thing before  it.  It  will  lay  waste  forests  and 
mountain  tops.  It  will  be  like  fire  that  sears; 
like  thirst  in  the  desert.  It  will  be  a  scourge, 
and  a  blinding  light,  and  a  glory !" 

She  stood  before  him  now,  trembling  with 
the  emotion  that  shook  her. 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"Because  I  am  your  woman,  and  I  love  as 
you  love!" 

"Good  God !"  he  muttered  and  turned  away 
from  her  swiftly. 

She  waited,  and  he  came  back  at  last. 

"You  are  very  beautiful  and  very  terrible," 
he  said  slowly.  "You've  played  at  love  all 
your  life.  You've  pinned  it,  like  a  ribbon,  on 
this  lapel  and  on  that.  I  know  your  kind,  bat- 
tening on  the  love  and  admiration  of  men,  giv- 
ing nothing  in  return.     If  this  passion  you 


106         The  Clutch  of  Crrcumstance 

have  played  with  has  turned  on  you,  it  is  only 
justice." 

Lady  Trask  was  like  an  avenging  goddess. 
She  surcharged  the  air  about  her  with  her 
fury. 

"You — you  pitiless "  she  cried,  inco- 
herent with  passion. 

"I  have  pity  for  one  person  only,  for  my 
good  friend  Ashton  Trask,  whose  honour  is  in 
the  hands  of  a  wanton  woman,"  he  said,  and 
turned  and  left  her  swiftly. 


CHAPTER  IV 

After  a  while  Brooks  came  into  the  room 
and  aroused  her. 

"I  beg  pardon.  Lady  Trask,  I  thought  you'd 
gone,"  he  stammered,  staring  at  her  ravaged 
face. 

She  passed  him  without  any  answer.  She 
■dragged  herself  to  her  own  rooms  and  walked 
back  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  in  agony.  She 
was  sick  from  head  to  foot  with  fury  and 
humiliation.  She  felt  that  her  life  force,  which 
should  have  swept  on  like  a  majestic  river  in 
its  pride  and  beauty,  had  been  dammed  within 
her,  a  fetid  stream  now,  to  poison  and  destroy. 

What  were  these  forces  that  were  sweeping 
her?  Having  flung  from  her  one  established 
loyalty,  was  she  thereby  cast  loose  from  aU 
loyalty?  Where  was  her  judgment,  that  she 
had  let  her  own  desires  so  blind  her?  How 
could  she  have  failed  to  see  that  the  time  to 
speak  had  not  come? 

For  a  long  time  she  kept  her  mind  running, 
so  that  she  might  not  remember  what  he  had 

107 


108         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

said  to  her,  how  he  had  despised  her.  But  the 
words  began  to  pour  back  upon  her  brain,  like 
molten  lava.  "Battening  on  the  love  and  ad- 
miration of  men,  giving  nothing  in  return 
...  a  wanton  woman  ...  a  wanton  wo- 
man. .  .  ." 

She  caught  sight  of  her  own  face  as  she 
swept  by  a  mirror,  and  she  stopped  to  stare 
at  herself.  Her  face  was  swollen  and  out  of 
shape.     She  looked  like  a  mad  woman. 

"Wanton  woman  .  .  .  wanton  woman.  .  .  ." 

What  was  she  to  do,  living  in  a  world  with 
this  man  who  had  insulted  and  humiliated  her? 
She  could  not  endure  that,  she  would  destroy 
herself  rather  than  meet  his  eyes  again.  It 
would  be  hard  on  Ashton,  but  he  was  better 
without  her,  since  "his  honour  was  in  the  hands 
of  a  wanton  woman."  If  only  she  had  had  the 
power  to  strike  Kendrick  dead,  as  he  stood 
there,  condemning  her,  like  God ! 

Another  thought  of  death  lifted  its  head, 
like  a  serpent  in  her  mind.  She  turned  away 
from  it,  shuddering,  but  it  swayed  there,  twist- 
ing and  turning  to  focus  her  attention. 

Suddenly  Ashton  stood  in  her  sitting-room 
door  and  spoke  to  her.    His  pleasant,  usual 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         109 

voice  called  her  away  from  the  ugliness  that 
threatened  her. 

"This  is  the  night  I  dine  at  the  club,  dear. 
What  are  you  doing  with  yourself?"  he  asked 
her. 

"I  have  a  headache.  I  shall  dine  up  here 
and  go  to  bed." 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry,"  he  said,  coming  to  bend 
over  her,  where  she  sat,  deliberately  turning 
her  face  away  from  the  light.  He  touched  her 
hair  with  his  lips,  then  her  cheek.  She  held 
herself  perfectly  rigid,  not  to  scream.  "Bobs, 
there  is  bad  news  about  young  Carter,"  he 
added  gently. 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"You  saw  the  list?"  surprised. 

"Lord — Kendrick  came  to  tell  me." 

"Oh,  that  was  kind  of  him.  Did  he  tell  you 
he  was  leaving  in  the  morriing?" 

"Yes,  on  the  Lancashire." 

"No,  the  Hartshire,"  he  corrected  mechani- 
cally. "My  dear,  I  should  not  have  said  that!" 
he  added  quickly.  "Forget  it,  please.  What 
made  you  think  it  was  the  Lancashire?"  curi- 
ously. 

"I  must  have  heard  some  one  say  she  was 
sailing " 


110         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Did  Kendrick  tell  you  the  name  of  the 
ship?" 

"No.  I  jumped  at  the  conclusion,  I  sup- 
pose.   Does  it  matter  ?"  wearily. 

"Your  poor  head!  Can't  I  do  anything  for 
you?" 

"No,  thanks.    I  need  quiet  and  some  sleep." 

"You  must  go  to  the  country,  Roberta, 
really " 

"All  right." 

He  kissed  her  cheek. 

"Go  to  bed,  old  dear.  I  won't  disturb  you 
again." 

He  went  out,  closing  her  door  gently.  She 
sat  still  turning  her  eyes  in  upon  herself  again. 
The  serpent  which  had  lifted  its  head  was  still 
there.  It  held  her  with  its  cold  eyes — it  was 
golden  and  beautiful. 

Her  maid  came  to  ask  her  about  dinner.  She 
sent  her  away,  saying  she  wanted  no  food. 
Later  she  heard  Ashton  tap  lightly  at  her  door. 
She  made  no  answer,  so  he  tip-toed  off  to  keep 
his  engagement. 

Her  mind  seemed  to  be  working  independ- 
ently of  her,  now.  She  took  up  her  telephone 
and  called  Captain  O'Toole.  She  knew  in 
advance  that  he  would  answer  it  himself.    She 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         111 

urged  him  to  come  to  her  at  once.  He  de- 
murred about  the  wisdom  of  it,  but  at  her  in- 
sistence he  finally  agreed.  She  bathed  her 
face,  smoothed  her  hair,  and  sat  waiting  until 
he  was  announced. 

"I  told  Captain  O 'Toole  I  thought  you  were 
out,  Lady  Trask,"  said  Brooks. 

"I  am  to  any  one  else.  I  will  see  Captain 
O'Toole  for  a  few  moments.  When  he  goes. 
Brooks,  put  out  the  lights." 

"Very  well.  Madam." 

When  she  came  into  the  room,  Larry  took 
her  hand,  and  stared  at  her. 

"Lady  Bobs,  ye  beautiful  Bobs !" 

"Evening,  Larry." 

"How  is  it  ye're  all  lee  alone,  woman?" 

"Ashton  is  at  the  club.    I  have  a  headache." 

"Is  it  safe  for  ye  to  be  seein'  me  here?" 

"Probably  not." 

"Another  assignment?" 

"Yes." 

*T)ifficult?" 

"Yes." 

"Ye  want  my  help?" 

"I've  got  the  facts." 

"Good  for  ye,  ye're  a  wonder.  Lady  Bobs." 


112         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I've  never  done  Them  any  service  equal  to 
this,"  she  said,  dry  lipped. 

He  looked  at  her  tense  face  and  burning 
eyes. 

"What  is  it  They're  askin'  av  ye,  Mavour- 
neen?"  he  asked  softly. 

"The  name  of  the  ship  upon  which  Kendrick 
sails  at  dawn." 

"God!"  he  exclaimed.    "YeVe  got  it?" 

She  nodded. 

"He  is  your  friend  and  Ashton's.  This  is  a 
terrible  thing  They're  askin'  av  ye,  now  I" 

Still  she  did  not  speak,  and  he  continued  his 
scrutiny  of  her  storm-swept  face. 

"Lady  Bobs,  ye're  not  lovin'  the  man!" 

"Xo."  She  forced  her  lips  to  form  that  one 
word,  and  hold  back  the  stream  of  hate  that 
threatened  to  follow  it. 

"Ye  are  a  wonderful  woman.  Lady  Bobs.'* 
He  bent  his  ear  to  her  lips.  "Now,  tell  me  the 
name  of  the  ship." 

"The  Hartshire,  sailing  at  dawn,"  the  obe- 
dient lips  repeated. 

He  lifted  her  two  hands  and  pressed  his  lips 
to  their  palms. 

"By  God,  Bobs,  I  adore  you!'* 

"Don't!"  she  said  sharply.    "Good  night." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         113 

"YeVe  done  the  greatest  service  yet,  in  the 
history  of  the  war.  Ye're  a  great  patriot, 
Roberta  Trask." 

He  hurried  away,  and  Lady  Trask  went  to 
lie  upon  her  bed  and  watch  for  dawn. 

The  next  day  she  went  from  one  thing  to 
the  next  feverishly.  She  met  Mildred  Downer, 
and  asked  her  to  come  to  dinner,  laughingly 
assuring  her  that  Captain  O'Toole  would  not 
be  there.  Lady  Cecily  called  up  in  the  after- 
noon, saying  that  she  had  come  to  town  on  an 
errand  and  would  stay  the  night,  if  Bobs  would 
put  her  up.  Lady  Trask  agreed  enthusiasti- 
cally. Anything  to  fill  up  the  endless  horror 
of  this  day. 

She  telephoned  Ashton  to  get  some  tickets 
to  a  comic  play,  and  find  some  men  to  join  them 
at  dinner.  His  voice  was  calm,  there  was  evi- 
dently no  news  yet.  She  kept  herself  occu- 
pied, her  mind  locked  tight,  until  it  was  time 
to  dress.  She  startled  her  maid  during  that 
process  by  laughing  suddenly.  It  struck  her 
as  funny  that  she  should  be  giving  such  atten- 
tion to  her  toilet.  She  stopped  as  suddenly  as 
she  began,  because  she  knew  that  if  she  started 
she  would  never  stop,  she  would  laugh  herself 
to  death,  or  to  sheer  madness. 


114         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

When  her  guests  arrived  she  scarcely  noted 
what  men  these  were  whom  Ashton  had  ob- 
ligingly provided.  They  were  Cecily  and  Mil- 
dred Downer's  concern.  Lady  Bobs,  however, 
was  never  so  the  centre  of  the  party.  She  was 
more  beautiful  than  any  of  them  had  ever 
known  her  to  be,  and  her  spirits  were  wilder. 
She  was  witty,  brilliant,  electrical. 

"What's  happened  to  Bobs,  Ashton?'* 
Cecily  asked  him  curiously. 

"She  is  wonderful,  isn't  she?" 

"But  it's  feverish,  it  isn't  normal.  The 
woman  is  ill.    She's  like  a  guttering  torch." 

"A  blaze,  I  should  say." 

"The  torch  is  brightest  before  it  goes  out," 
she  warned  him. 

"She's  a  bit  overdone,  I  think.  She  prom- 
ised me  last  night  to  go  to  the  country." 

"Thank  Heaven,"  she  exclaimed  with  such 
relief,  that  he  patted  her  hand  affectionately. 

"Good  old  Cecily." 

"Is  Lady  Trask  always  like  this?"  asked  her 
neighbour  of  Mildred  Downer.  "I  never  saw 
or  heard  anything  like  her." 

"She  is  marvellous,  isn't  she?"  answered  the 
girl,  who  scarcely  took  her  eyes  off  Lady  Bobs' 
glowing  face. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         115 

The  comic  play  went  on  and  on.  When 
there  was  laughter.  Lady  Trask  laughed,  but 
she  heard  not  one  word  of  that  silly  farce.  In 
the  intermissions  she  took  up  her  leadership, 
keeping  them  all  in  a  ripple  of  laughter. 

Later  Ashton  proposed  supper  and  they 
went  off  to  the  Savoy.  There  were  several 
parties  of  people  they  knew,  so  many  people 
were  kept  in  town  late  by  war  work.  The  men 
from  nearby  tables  visited  them.  All  eyes  were 
on  Lady  Bobs  to-night. 

Half  way  through  supper  the  major-domo 
of  the  dining-room  bent  over  Sir  Ashton's 
shoulder  and  gave  him  a  message.  Trask 
apologised  to  his  guests  and  went  out  hastily. 
Lady  Bobs  talked  on.  Across  the  room  she 
caught  the  eye  of  Captain  Larry  O'Toole,  who 
nodded  and  smiled. 

When  Sir  Ashton  came  back  they  all  saw 
that  something  serious  had  happened.  His 
face  was  white,  the  line  between  his  eyes  deep 
with  suffering. 

"There  is  bad  news  for  England,  my  friends. 
Terrible  news,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  as  he  took 
his  seat.  "The  warship  Hartshire  has  been  tor- 
pedoed or  sunk  by  submarine,  off  a  nearby 
coast " 


116         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Many  lost  on  her?"  asked  one  of  the  men. 

"They  think  the  biggest  man  in  England 
was  lost  on  her,"  replied  Ashton,  "Lord  Ken- 
drick." 

"No,"  came  the  breathless  chorus.  Lady 
Bobs  gave  a  sort  of  exclamation,  which  no  one 
noticed  in  the  excitement. 

"But  that  man  is  necessary  to  us,  he  cannot 
be  dead!"  cried  Mildred  Downer. 

"There  is  one  chance  in  a  thousand  that  he 
was  picked  up,  but  the  crew  is  reported  lost." 

"It  isn't  believable!"  said  Lady  Cecily. 
"When  did  you  see  him  last,  Ashton?" 

"Several  days  ago.  But  Roberta  saw  him 
yesterday." 

They  all  looked  at  her. 

"Did  he  tell  you  he  was  going  to  France?" 
asked  Mildred. 

"He  told  me  he  was  leaving  England." 

"Was  it  chance,  or  did  the  Huns  know  he 
was  on  that  ship?"  Mildred  asked  Ashton. 

"We'll  never  know,"  he  answered. 

"But  how  could  they  know  the  name  of  the 
ship  ?"  said  Cecily.  "It  must  have  been  an  ab- 
solute secret,  so  much  depended  on  it.  How 
could  any  one  have  found  out,  Ashton?" 

"They  could  not  unless  some  one  in  the  War 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         117 

Office  told,"  said  Sir  Ashton,  and  all  at  once 
his  eyes  rushed  to  Roberta.  She  met  them 
steadily,  but  Mildred  Downer,  in  a  flash  of 
intuition,  guessed  the  truth.  Lady  Trask  had 
known  the  ship  Kendrick  sailed  on,  because 
Sir  Ashton  had  told  her!  Mildred's  glance 
slid  across  the  room  to  Captain  O'Toole,  who 
was  apparently  enjoying  his  supper. 

"Let's  go  home — this  is  awful!"  said  Lady 
Cecily. 

They  rose  and  made  their  way  toward  the 
door.  On  the  way  they  passed  the  table  where 
Larry  O'Toole  sat,  and  he  rose  to  intercept 
them,  and  say  good  evening.  He  was  in  high 
spirits.  He  walked  with  them  toward  the 
foyer,  until  he  had  a  chance  to  catch  Lady 
Bobs'  attention.  He  lifted  his  eyebrows  and 
she  nodded. 

"Congratulations,"  he  said  to  her  with  a 
smile. 


PART  THREE 


PART  THREE 
CHAPTER  I 

Mildred  Downer  spent  a  perfectly  sleep- 
less night  after  the  supper  at  the  Savoy,  where 
the  news  of  the  sinking  of  the  Hartshire  was 
announced,  and  the  ugly  certainty  had  come 
to  her  that  Roberta  Trask  knew  in  advance 
the  name  of  the  ship  on  which  Lord  Kendrick 
went  down. 

At  first  she  tried  to  dismiss  the  whole  thing 
from  her  mind.  It  was  not  unnatural  that  Sir 
Ashton  should  have  told  her  the  fact,  by  acci- 
dent, or  in  confidence.  It  had  no  bearing  on 
the  ultimate  tragedy.  Never  for  an  instant 
did  any  doubt  of  Lady  Trask's  loyalty  enter 
her  head. 

But  in  regard  to  Lady  Trask's  intimate 
friend.  Captain  O'Toole,  she  had  an  accumula- 
tion of  impressions,  not  yet  sufiiciently  definite 
to  be  called  suspicions. 

She  had  begun  by  hating  O'Toole  for  per- 
sonal reasons.    An  ugly  woman,  unused  to  any 

121 


122         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

amorous  attentions  from  young  men,  she  had 
mistaken  the  handsome  Captain's  attempt 
pour  passer  le  temps  at  a  dull  house  party,  as 
a  genuine  infatuation.  Her  hurt  pride  and 
fury  at  him  when  she  learned  the  truth  were 
sufficient  groundwork  for  her  hate.  In  her 
queer  way  she  cherished  a  deep  admiring  devo- 
tion for  Lady  Trask.  Her  beauty,  her  fascina- 
tions, her  quick  wit,  these  were  the  supreme 
gifts  to  the  mind  of  plain  Mildred  Downer. 
It  disgusted  her  to  have  her  ideal  waste  time 
ynih  Larry  O'Toole.  It  was  partly  in  the  spirit 
of  wishing  to  save  her  friend  future  chagrin 
that  she  began  her  investigations  of  Larry. 

She  had  been  characteristically  thorough  in 
her  efforts.  She  made  inquiries  about  him  in 
the  Irish  town  where  he  was  born.  She  fol- 
lowed his  record  in  school  and  college.  She 
found  no  disgraceful  facts  about  the  handsome 
Celt,  but  certain  indications  of  a  happy-go- 
lucky  laxity  kept  her  on  the  trail,  until  she 
discovered  the  mistress  in  London.  This 
seemed  to  her  sufficient  evidence  to  convince 
Lady  Trask  of  his  undesirability.  She  was 
shocked  at  the  apparent  indifference  of  her  idol 
to  this  revelation. 

It  was  a  little  after  this  interview  with  Lady 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         123 

Trask  that  Mildred  came  upon  the  fact  of 
O'Toole's  connection  with  the  Sinn  Feiners. 
The  Casement  execution  had  apparently  put 
an  end  for  the  time  being  to  Irish- German 
intrigue,  but  the  discovery  of  this  revolutionary 
alliance  of  his  threw  some  light,  she  thought,  on 
one  or  two  coincidences,  which  had  come  to 
Miss  Downer's  attention.  There  was  the  mat- 
ter of  the  zig-zag  British  advance,  which  Sir 
Ashton  had  mentioned  at  his  own  luncheon 
table,  and  which  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy 
next  day. 

What  if  Lady  Trask  had  been  indiscreet  in 
regard  to  the  name  of  Kendrick's  ship,  in  the 
presence  of  her  admirer?  Would  it  be  possible 
that  O 'Toole  could  have  used  information  ac- 
quired that  way? 

She  went  over  it,  all  night  long,  in  an  agony 
of  distrust  and  terror.  Hers  was  a  consuming 
devotion  to  England  and  its  cause.  She  would 
not  hesitate  one  second  to  sacrifice  Captain 
O'Toole,  if  the  good  of  England  required  it. 
But  what  about  Lady  Trask?  Suppose 
O'Toole  were  a  spy,  and  that  it  could  be  proved 
that  he  learned  his  facts  from  Lady  Trask,  who 
in  turn  obtained  them  from  Sir  Ashton,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  War  Cabinet!    It  would  mean  ruin 


124         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

and  disgrace  for  both  her  friends.  Surely 
England  could  not  ask  that  of  her  I 

But  as  if  the  Fates  conspired  to  make  her 
go  ahead  on  this  path  of  discovery,  two  nights 
later,  the  Duchess  of  Wrowe  came  up  to  town 
and  opened  her  house  for  a  distinguished 
French  general,  who  was  in  London  on  diplo- 
matic business.  She  heard,  during  the  evening, 
O'Toole  discussing  with  the  guest  of  honour 
the  matter  of  the  general  direction  of  the  allied 
forces.  There  was  some  argument,  into  which 
several  of  the  men  were  drawn,  and  some  facts 
were  dropped  in  regard  to  future  plans.  It 
was  all  general  enough,  but  the  stand  which 
England  and  France  would  take  in  the  matter 
was  fairly  well  indicated,  if  not  stated. 

Somewhat  later  in  the  evening,  she  was 
standing  in  the  supper  room  with  a  dull  com- 
panion, when  O'Toole  joined  Lady  Trask, 
standing  nearby.  He  spoke  to  her  in  a  casual 
tone,  but  Mildred's  ears,  sharpened  by  sus- 
picion, listened. 

"Did  you  get  it?"  inquired  the  Captain. 

"No." 

"But  you  must,"  forcibly. 

Lady  Trask  laughed. 

"Any  plans?" 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         125 

"Not  yet." 

O' Toole  was  summoned  by  the  Duchess,  and 
Mildred's  partner  turned  an  astonished  face 
to  her  sudden  remark: 

"But  it  isn't  possible!" 

"I  assure  you  it  is,"  said  he,  thinking  she 
challenged  him.  He  stared  at  her  almost 
hysterical  laughter. 

Two  days  later  it  became  evident  that  Ger- 
many knew  the  attitude  of  England  and 
France  in  regard  to  the  general  direction  of  the 
allied  forces.  Mildred  Downer  assured  herself 
that  it  was  coincidence,  but  the  affair  tor- 
mented her  so  that  she  could  neither  eat  nor 
sleep. 

Finally  in  desperation  she  went  to  an  old 
friend  of  the  family,  a  man  of  authority  and 
position  in  public  affairs.  She  poured  out  to 
him  the  whole  miserable  story  of  her  suspi- 
cions. She  did  not  even  spare  herself  the  con- 
fession of  why  she  began  to  hate  Captain 
O 'Toole.  Her  friend  listened  attentively,  and 
asked  some  questions  about  Lady  Trask.  Mil- 
dred repeatedly  stated  her  belief  in  Lady 
Trask.  She  was  a  coquette,  flattered  by  the 
attentions  of  a  witty  rogue. 

She  explained  how  she  had  tried  to  keep  the 


126        The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

affair  to  herself  because  of  her  affection  for 
Sir  Ashton  and  Lady  Trask.  She  was  afraid 
that  disgrace  for  O'Toole  might  incriminate 
them.  But  when  she  thought  of  the  sacrifices 
that  were  being  made  for  England,  she  thought 
that  maybe  this  one  was  demanded  of  her. 
Was  there  some  way  that  the  Irishman  could 
be  watched,  without  drawing  the  Trasks  into 
it? 

"You  say  you  warned  her  that  the  man  was 
a  libertine?" 

"Yes." 

"Does  Trask  make  no  objection  to  the  fel- 
low?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Suppose  I  put  a  secret  service  man  on  him, 
and  if  I  get  confirmation  of  your  suspicions, 
warn  Trask  that  Lady  Trask  is — indiscreet." 

"Yes,  that  would  be  a  good  way  to  manage 
it.  Would  my  name  have  to  be  used?"  she 
asked  anxiously. 

"I  should  think  not — ^not  imless  something 
develops  where  we  would  need  your  testi- 
mony." 

"It  has  been  a  relief  to  talk  to  you." 

"You  have  done  a  plucky  and  a  patriotic 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         127 

thing,  Mildred.  England  may  have  cause  to 
thank  you  for  a  real  service." 

"I'd  do  anything  to  help." 

"I  know  that.  Thank  you  for  coming  to  me. 
You  may  be  sure  that  we  will  shield  the  Trasks 
in  every  possible  way." 

She  left  his  office  relieved  of  responsibility 
but  not  of  anxiety  and  foreboding.  If  it  should 
be  her  duty  to  bring  sorrow  and  disgrace  to 
Lady  Bobs! 

These  were  days  of  hectic  activity  for  Lady 
Trask.  The  days  she  managed  somehow,  but 
the  nights  could  not  be  escaped.  Surrender  to 
sleep  meant  visions  of  slowly  heaving  waves, 
and  drowning  men.  .  .  .  Sir  Ashton  finally 
carried  her  off  to  the  country,  on  the  plea  that 
he  needed  rest.  She  went  willingly  enough. 
It  seemed  to  make  no  difference  to  her,  and  he 
wondered  why  she  had  persisted  in  remaining 
in  town. 

They  spent  a  week  together,  mostly  out  of 
doors.  They  rode  and  golfed.  Lady  Bobs 
tried  to  garden,  but  there  was  a  ghost  in  the 
garden  now,  who  always  stood  behind  her,  or 
worked  beside  her.  It  had  brown  deft  fingers 
which  patted  down  the  earth.  Even  Hughie's 
prattle  and  old  Mallory's  song  could  not  drive 


128         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

him  away.  So  that  happy  refuge  was  taken 
from  her.  She  no  longer  set  foot  on  Mallory's 
well-trimmed  paths. 

"Ye  notice  how  Lady  Trask  never  digs  no 
more  in  yer  garden,  Mallory?"  his  wife  in- 
quired. 

"Ladies  gets  whimsies  for  work.  Gardenin' 
ain't  no  bank  holiday,"  was  his  answer. 

"She  ain't  the  same  wommun.  I  wunder 
sometimes  does  Sir  Ashton  see  it  like  I  see  it." 

"He  sees  what  is  under  his  nose,  don't  ye 
fret." 

Sir  Ashton,  in  fact,  thought  Roberta  very 
nervous  and  over-tired.  He  discouraged  their 
having  any  guests  and  urged  her  to  relax  and 
rest.  She  smiled  at  that.  She  was  ever  on  the 
alert  for  orders  from  Them.  The  difficulties 
and  dangers  of  transmission  were  greater  here 
in  the  country.  She  was  planning  how  to  meet 
Sir  Ashton's  sure  objections,  and  go  back  to 
town  with  him,  when  he  went. 

Lady  Cecily  arrived  one  day,  bringing  two 
men.  Ashton  took  charge  of  one  of  them.  He 
made  no  impression  on  Lady  Bobs  although  he 
told  her  he  was  an  old  friend  of  Mildred  Dow- 
ner, and  had  heard  much  from  her  of  Lady 
Trask's  charms.   The  other  man  was  a  Captain 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         129 

Ivan  Insull.  He  was  a  big,  magnificently  pro- 
portioned young  man,  with  laughing  blue  eyes, 
and  abounding  vitality. 

"Captain  Insull  gave  me  no  peace,  until  I 
brought  him  here,  Bobs.  There  are  men  who 
worry  along  for  a  day  with  my  poor  charms, 
but  not  the  Captain,"  complained  Cecily. 

"What  can  a  man  say  to  that?"  he  asked, 
with  his  big  boy  smile. 

"If  you  only  spare  us  the  'How  happy  would 
I  be'  couplet,"  suggested  Bobs. 

"You  are  spared,"  he  assured  her. 

"And  don't  bother  about  calling  us  the  horns 
of  your  dilemma " 

"Ladies,  you  have  elected  me  the  King  of 
Bromidia !  Accept  in  return  the  neighbouring 
provinces  of  Sulphitia." 

They  laughed  at  his  nonsense,  and  Lady 
Cecily  went  to  speak  to  old  Mallory. 

"Why  did  you  want  to  come  and  see  me?" 
inquired  Roberta  idly. 

"Because  you  are  the  most  beautiful  person 
I  have  ever  seen.  You  were  pointed  out  to  me 
in  London." 

"That  is  manna  from  Heaven  to  a  tired 
woman  feeling  middle-agish." 


180         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I'm  an  antidote  for  that  feeling.  Do  try 
me,"  he  urged  her. 

"My  case  would  demand  your  constant  at- 
tention," she  warned  him. 

"Your  case  would  get  it,"  he  replied  with 
decision. 

"Are  you  an  Englishman?"  she  asked. 

"Canadian." 

"Ah,  yes,  that's  it." 

"May  I  ask  what  is  that,  that's  it?" 

"Hm — ^you've  got  the  look  of  a  man  whose 
eyes  have  swept  broad  spaces.  I  knew  you 
were  no  dweller  in  cities." 

"I'm  a  rover — no  dweller  long  in  any  place. 
Like  Satan  'I  walk  up  and  down  the  earth.' 
From  Singapore  to  London  is  a  step." 

"You  wear  seven  league  boots,  then.  That's 
who  you  are,  of  course.  The  Giant  in  the  Fairy 
Tale." 

He  laughed  at  that. 

"That's  me.  You  haven't  any  prejudice 
against  giants?"  anxiously. 

"Not  if  they  make  me  laugh,  and  play,  and 
believe  in  fairies." 

"Oh,  we  do!"  he  assured  her.  "You  may  be 
the  haughty  Princess  Irmingarde,  and  I  will 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         131 

show  you  what  a  handy  thing  is  a  pocket 
giant." 

"I  think  that  must  be  what  I  need." 

"I'm  yours,"  he  cried,  with  a  low  bow. 

"Good,  you  are  getting  on!"  commented 
Lady  Cecily,  joining  them.  "What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  the  great  creature,  Bobs?" 

"She's  going  to  play  with  me,"  he  boasted. 

"Don't  you  ever  go  off  to  war  and  get  shot," 
said  Cecily,  with  eyes  suddenly  misted.  "We 
do  so  need  big  boys  who  can  laugh  in  Eng- 
land!" 

So  it  was  that  Captain  Insull  came  in  to 
Lady  Bobs'  circle. 


CHAPTER  II 

Lady  Bobs  was  finally  forced  to  make  Lady 
Cecily  her  long  deferred  visit.  They  met  in 
town  and  Lady  Harrison  cornered  her. 

"Bobs,  have  you  taken  a  dislike  to  me,  or  to 
the  place?" 

"Cecily,  you  foolish  one  I  When  do  you  want 
me?" 

"When  will  you  come?" 

"My  dear,  I  was  never  such  poor  company, 
to  myself  or  to  my  friends." 

"I'll  risk  you.  Want  to  be  alone,  or  shall 
we  import  some  amusement?" 

"For  instance?" 

"Some  pleasant  men — not  husbands," 
laughed  Cecily. 

"Are  you  dispensing  with  husbands  entire- 
ly?" 

"Oh,  no.  We'll  have  them  for  week-ends. 
They  can  golf  together — but  they'll  be  no  use 
to  us.    We  can  take  Cecil  and  Ivan " 

"Cecil  is  lily-fingered  poet,  but  who  is 
Ivan?"  inquired  Roberta. 

132 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         138 

"Your  late  conquest.  Captain  Insull." 

"Oh,  is  he  Ivan?" 

"Would  you  like  him,  or  do  you  want 
Larry?" 

"I'm  sick  to  death  of  Larry  I" 

"Ivan  it  shall  be.  We  will  motor  out  to- 
morrow and  carry  our  playmates  along.  Case 
of  the  Sabine  men,"  she  laughed. 

They  started  from  London,  late  in  the 
morning,  intending  to  lunch  at  the  Automo- 
bile Club.  It  was  hot.  The  poet  and  Roberta 
were  a  trifle  languid,  but  no  sun  could  dampen 
the  ardour  or  tie  the  tongues  of  Lady  Cecily 
and  Captain  Insull.  They  chattered,  they 
laughed,  they  chivied  the  other  two,  until 
finally  they  were  all  weak  from  laughter. 
England  was  at  war,  the  world  in  ruins,  and 
yet  they  made  merry  past  sunny  fields,  through 
"pastures  green,  and  quiet  waters  by."  It  was 
a  desultory  day  of  sun  and  healing  laughter. 
From  it  grew  courage  in  Lady  Bobs'  sick 
heart. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  days  when  her  deep 
forebodings  almost  left  her.  Days  in  the  open 
with  companions  who  knew  how  to  play.  She 
had  never  met  any  man  like  Ivan  Insull.  He 
was  a  big  happy  boy,  as  imselfconscious  as  a 


134         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

puppy,  and  as  tender-hearted  as  a  woman.  He 
sang  delightfully  in  a  mellow  baritone  voice, 
and  played  the  piano  very  well.  His  vitality 
seemed  to  surcharge  the  world.  His  laugh 
boomed  forth  constantly,  and  every  human 
creature,  and  every  animal  creature,  w^ho  came 
in  touch  with  him,  loved  him. 

To  Roberta  he  was  like  a  breath  of  moun- 
tain air  to  a  woman  strangling.  He  hurled 
himself  into  things  with  such  abandon  that  he 
swept  her  along  with  him.  She  fairly  clung 
to  the  thought  of  him.  He  made  her  laugh,  he 
made  her  forget.  He  made  love  to  her,  too, 
in  the  most  wholehearted  way.  He  flattered 
her  constantly  with  little  tender  attentions.  To 
her  stricken  spirit,  burned  with  the  vitriol  of 
scorn  from  the  man  she  loved,  it  was  like  sweet, 
healing  oil  which  quenched  her  pain. 

"How  can  you  be  so  young?"  she  said  to 
him  once. 

"I  protect  my  youth,  where  most  people 
squander  theirs.  Youth  is  the  most  important 
thing  of  aU." 

She  nodded. 

"One  only  realises  it  when  it  is  gone." 

"Get  it  back.  Middle  age  is  a  complaint, 
but  old  age  is  a  disease.    Hurry  to  a  doctor.'* 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         135 

"He'll  tell  me  to  give  up — coffee." 

"I'll  prescribe  for  you.  Give  up — to-mor- 
row." 

"You  mean ?" 

"To-day  is  enough." 

"La  Cigale  et  La  Fourmi?"  she  reminded 
him. 

"Ah,  yes,  but  give  me  La  Cigale.  She  has 
her  perfect  day  of  sun  and  love,  and  then  she 
gpes  out.    That's  my  way.    Isn't  it  yours?" 

"Make  me  laugh,  Pocket  Giant,  don't  make 
me  philosophise,"  she  begged  him. 

"I  wish  I  could  make  you  forget,"  he  said 
gently. 

"Forget  what?" 

"The  thing  that  drives  you  so." 

They  were  sitting  on  the  veranda,  and  he 
went  to  get  a  ukulele,  and  came  to  sit  beside 
her.  He  sang  her  some  aching  Hawaiian  songs, 
and  then  he  broke  off  and  made  her  laugh  with 
an  imitation  of  a  Chinese  boy,  trying  to  sing 
a  Chinese  song,  with  one  string  of  the  instru- 
ment for  accompaniment.  These  strange 
noises  brought  Lady  Cecily  and  Languedoc  to 
the  spot. 

"I  have  an  inspiration,'*  said  Cecily.  "Let's 
have  a  garden  party  and  a  concert  for  the  ben- 


186         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

efit  of  convalescent  Tommies.  Basil  could 
recite  his  poems,  Ivan  could  sing,  and  I  could 
provide  the  garden  and  the  food.'* 

"Must  we  ?"  sighed  Captain  InsuU.  "We've 
been  so  happy  here  in  our  quiet  way.  Why  let 
the  rude  world  in?" 

"The  rude  world  must  pay  well  to  get  in," 
his  hostess  replied. 

"Do  vote  against  it.  Lovely  Lady  Irmin- 
garde!"  Ivan  begged  Roberta. 

"It  is  no  use.  I  can  see  the  idea  growing 
like  a  plant,  in  Cecily's  mind,"  she  laughed, 
indicating  Cecily's  absorbed  expression. 

"We  could  get  down  some  celebrities  from 
London,  and  exhibit  the  Duchess  of  Wrowe," 
Cecily  said. 

"For  a  fee?"  inquired  Languedoc. 

"They  still  pay  to  see  a  Duchess,"  she  re- 
torted. 

"Are  husbands  to  be  exhibited,  too?"  asked 
InsuU. 

"Don't  be  cynical.  What  do  you  say  to 
Saturday?" 

"The  day  does  not  matter,  it's  the  audience. 
Do  you  expect  me  to  read  my  poems  to  the  vil- 
lage green  grocer  on  a  half  holiday?" 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         1ST 

"I  do.  It's  part  of  your  'bit/  "  cried  Lady 
Cecily. 

"Yes,  and  the  green  grocer's  bit,  too.  He 
may  stand  under  gunfire,  but  will  he  stand 
under  Languedoc's  poetry?" 

"Hush,  Saul,  or  I'll  brain  thee  with  a  peb- 
ble," said  the  poet  sweetly. 

Roberta  was  right,  the  idea  was  fixed  in 
Cecily's  mind,  and  she  marched  them  all  to- 
ward her  goal.  Cards  and  tickets  were  sent 
out  broadcast;  people  were  asked  down  from 
London  by  telegram  and  telephone. 

When  she  made  out  a  programme  for  the 
two  performers  Basil  protested. 

"You  treat  us  like  two  trained  bears  with 
rings  in  our  noses." 

"I  haven't  time  to  pet  you  now,  but  later  my 
appreciation  will  embarrass  you,"  she  prom- 
ised. 

The  day  before  the  party  they  rifled  the 
gardens  and  woods  for  decorations.  They  de- 
cided on  the  spots  where  the  refreshments  were 
to  grow.  They  were  as  merry  as  youngsters 
preparing  for  a  picnic. 

"Are  the  village  children  to  dance  on  the 
green?"  asked  Insull  of  Cecily. 

"I  had  not  thought  of  it." 


138         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"They  always  do,  in  song  and  story." 

"Do  they?  You  and  Roberta  go  and  collect 
the  village  children,  and  engage  them  for  to- 
morrow." 

"No  sooner  said  than  done,"  cried  Ivan,  go- 
ing after  Lady  Bobs.  "Lovely  Lady  Irmin- 
garde,  we  are  ordered  to  the  village  to  stage 
the  Pied  Piper,"  he  explained. 

They  boarded  Cecily's  runabout,  which 
Captain  Insull  drove,  and  started  for  the  vil- 
lage. Ivan  sang  lustily,  as  they  dashed  along 
the  country  road.  Bobs  lay  back  relaxed,  al- 
most content.  He  threw  her  a  smile,  now  and 
then. 

"Comfy?"  he  asked. 

"Hm.     Sing  that  again." 

So  he  sang  it  again. 

The  day  of  the  lawn  fete  was  a  dispensation 
in  weather.  Everybody  came  from  far  and 
near,  and  Lady  Cecily  was  so  pleased,  that 
Languedoc  said  to  her: 

"Madam,  your  triumph  is  offensive!" 

The  audience  was  as  kind  as  the  weather. 
They  applauded  Languedoc's  poems  politely, 
but  they  encored  Captain  Insull's  songs  until 
he  was  as  hoarse  as  a  tired  crow.    The  children 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         13& 

danced  on  the  lawn,  led  by  Lady  Bobs  and 
InsuU,  and  every  one  was  in  high  spirits. 

The  Duchess  of  Wrowe  turned  to  Ashton 
after  the  children's  games.  Insull  was  bending 
over  Roberta,  who  smiled  up  at  him.  The 
man's  devotion  was  in  his  face,  in  the  very  pos- 
ture of  his  body  as  he  leaned  toward  her. 

"Ashton,  do  make  that  girl  of  yours  behave 
herself.  That  is  not  a  proper  tableau  for  a 
mixed,  public  affair  like  this.  Who  is  Captain 
Insull?" 

Sir  Ashton  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"He  seems  an  agreeable  fellow." 

"Too  agreeable  by  far,  I  should  say. 
O'Toole,  Lord  Kendrick,  Captain  Insull — 
Roberta's  list  grows  too  long." 

"My  dear  old  friend,  forgive  me  if  I  say  that 
I  cannot  discuss  Roberta's  friends  or  her  con- 
duct with  any  one." 

"Ashton,  you're  a  fool!"  snapped  the  old 
woman.  "Why  don't  you  make  her  love  you 
so  that  she  will  give  you  her  full  attention?" 

"I  think  the  verb  'make'  is  never  conjugated 
with  the  verb  *to  love,'  "  he  smiled  at  her. 

Captain  O'Toole  stopped  to  say  a  word  to 
them.  He  caught  Roberta's  eye  and  made  a 
gesture  which  she  knew.    She  paid  no  attention 


140         The  Clutch  of  Circimistance 

to  it,  so  shortly  he  sauntered  over  and  joined 
her.  With  a  smile  he  held  out  his  hand,  and 
when  she  put  her  own  in  it  she  felt  a  tightly- 
folded  paper  against  her  palm.  She  presented 
O'Toole  to  Captain  Insull,  and,  after  a  few 
bantering  words,  the  Irishman  went  on. 

"Don't  let  him  give  you  notes,"  said  Insull. 

"Why  not?"  she  challenged  him. 

"He  won't  do.    He's  a  second  rater." 

"Men  never  like  him.  He's  an  old  pal  of 
mine,  and  he  has  a  perfect  right  to  slip  me 
billets-doux.  Come  along  and  be  pretty  to  the 
Duchess." 

"I  prefer  to  stay  with  you.  Why  should  I 
be  pretty  to  an  old  grenadier  with  a  black 
moustache?" 

"Because  you're  such  a  kind  pocket  giant 
that  you  will  like  to  give  the  grenadier  a  treat." 

But  Cecily  arrived  at  the  moment  and  or- 
dered Insull  to  sing  again,  so  Lady  Bobs 
joined  the  Duchess  and  Ash  ton. 

"Roberta,  who  is  the  handsome  officer?" 

"Captain  Ivan  Insull  is  his  name." 

"He's  in  love  with  you." 

"Is  he?" 

"I  tell  Ashton  he  ought  to  put  a  stop  to  your 
philandering." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         141 

Lady  Trask  looked  at  her  husband. 

"Why  don't  you?"  she  inquired. 

He  smiled  at  her,  without  reply. 

"Irishman!"  called  the  Duchess.  "Take  me 
to  Cecily.  I'm  tired  and  I'm  going  home. 
Roberta,  behave  yourself." 

"You  don't  mind  her,  dear?  She's  getting 
old  and  cranky." 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  her.  Why  don't  you 
stop  me,  Ashton?" 

"I  have,  I  hope,  never  stopped  anybody 
from  doing  anything  that  their  natures  or  their 
pleasures  dictated,"  he  remarked. 

"I  wish  I  were  the  kind  of  wife  you  ought 
to  have,  Ashton!"  she  said  with  sudden  feeling. 

"Dearest,  you  are  the  only  wife  for  me  to 
have." 

"How  you  do  stand  by!" 

"You'll  find  me  standing  by,  as  long  as  we 
two  are  on  this  planet,"  he  smiled. 

He  drew  her  hand  through  his  arm,  and  led 
her  toward  the  house. 

"I  wish  I  could  make  you  as  happy  as  you 
make  me,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 


CHAPTER  III 

Lady  Bobs*  "mission"  brought  her  back  to 
town.  The  remark  of  Captain  InsuU  about 
notes  from  O' Toole  recurred  to  her  once  or 
twice,  but  when  she  recalled  his  bland  expres- 
sion, she  was  sure  it  was  a  chance  shot.  At 
worst  he  would  think  Larry  in  love  with  her. 
They  must  be  more  careful,  however.  They 
had  thought  themselves  very  expert  in  this' 
exchange  business.  There  must  have  been 
something  in  action  or  expression  which  had 
caught  the  attention  of  Captain  InsuU. 

She  found  herself  refreshed  by  the  normal 
healthy  days  spent  at  the  Harrisons'.  Her 
dread  moment  of  reckoning  seemed  post- 
poned, and  life  regained  some  of  its  savour. 
Ashton  thought  her  much  improved.  He  so 
enjoyed  her  society  in  his  enforced  stay  in 
London,  that  he  made  no  more  protest  to  her 
remaining  in  town. 

Captain  Insull  managed  to  see  her  every 
day.  They  walked  or  motored,  or  lunched  or 
took  tea  together,  and  Lady  Bobs  leaned  on  his 
high  spirits  as  on  a  crutch.    He  had  an  uncanny 

142 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         143 

way  of  guessing  her  mood  or  her  state  of  mind 
before  she  spoke,  and  with  a  sort  of  boyish 
tenderness  he  set  himself  to  make  her  forget 
everything  except  the  moment  in  hand,  with 
its  golden  opportunities. 

She  gave  his  devotion  little  thought,  save 
that  it  comforted  her.  She  was  fond  of  him  as 
she  might  have  been  of  a  brother.  She  often 
longed  to  open  her  heart  to  him,  to  tell  him 
about  the  tangled  web  she  was  caught  in.  She 
was  so  sure  of  his  understanding  and  his  help. 

About  this  time  the  masters  over  sea  began 
to  make  many  and  arduous  demands  upon  her. 
Planning  ways  to  get  the  required  information, 
manipulating  this  friend  and  that,  taking  care 
to  cover  her  tracks  always,  such  were  the  de- 
vious trails  along  which  she  forced  her  mind. 
The  service  she  had  entered  upon,  in  a  moment 
of  high  feeling,  had  closed  her  in  with  prison 
bars.  She  no  longer  obeyed  Them  gladly — 
she  obeyed  because  she  must. 

Heinrich  Briick  came  no  more  in  answer  to 
her  appeals  for  help.  He  sent  no  message  of 
courage  to  sustain  her  dreams.  Duty  and 
Destruction  were  the  ball  and  chain  that 
clanked  behind  her  every  step  during  these 
days.     No  wonder  that  she  turned  to  Ivan 


144         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

InsuU  as  a  prisoner  turns  toward  an  open 
door. 

Mildred  Downer  came  in  to  see  her  one  day 
in  July. 

"What  are  you  doing  in  town?"  Lady  Bobs 
asked. 

"Working  from  eight  to  six,  and  sometimes 
half  the  night  besides,  with  wounded  Tom- 
mies," the  girl  replied  cheerfully. 

"Good  for  you.    You  look  very  fit." 

"Never  better  in  my  life.  I  have  never  been 
too  busy  to  think  before,  with  work  that  counts. 
It  is  the  answer  to  the  whole  thing " 

"The  answer  is  not  so  simple  for  all  of  us," 
sighed  Lady  Bobs. 

"Work  from  now  on  is  to  be  my  religion. 
It  is  the  only  way  to  forget  the  things  you 
want  and  cannot  have,"  said  Miss  Downer. 

"I  do  not  need  conversion,"  smiled  Lady 
Bobs. 

"1  can't  imagine  you  working,"  said  the 
girl.  "You  were  just  made  to  express  beauty 
and  wealth  and  leisure.  But  why  do  you  stay 
in  town  this  hot  weather?" 

"Ashton  has  to  stay.    I  do  not  mind  it." 

"Is  Sir  Ashton  well?" 

"Fagged,  poor  dear." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         145 

"Marvellous  how  the  men  stand  the  strain 
of  it." 

"How  about  the  women?  I'd  go  to  the 
front,  to  sure  death,  in  preference  to  the 
woman- job  of  waiting." 

"Most  of  us  are  too  busy  to  think." 

"You  and  I  have  neither  husbands  nor  sons 
out  there.  There's  time  to  think  for  mothers 
and  wives,  Mildred." 

"We're  all  living  in  Hell,"  the  girl  said. 

"Let's  talk  of  something  else,"  Lady  Bobs 
suggested. 

"Lady  Cecily  told  me  that  you  had  a  new 
slave.    Who  is  Captain  Insull?" 

"If  you  can  imagine  all  of  youth,  and  gaiety, 
a  splendid  body  and  a  singing  voice,  in  one 
goodly  person,  you  have  Captain  Insull." 

"Where  did  you  find  the  paragon?"  de- 
manded Mildred. 

"Cecily  handed  him  over  to  me,  and  by  the 
way,  she  had  him  as  a  present  from  a  friend 
of  yours,"  said  Lady  Bobs,  mentioning  the 
name  of  Captain  InsuU's  sponsor. 

At  the  mention  of  that  name  a  strange  thing 
happened  to  Mildred  Downer's  expression. 
Her  skin  went  dead  white,  her  lips  looked  blue. 


146         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

her  eyes  full  of  terror.  Then  a  hideous  flush 
spread  over  her  face  and  neck. 

"Mildred,  what  is  it?    Are  you  ill?" 

"It's  nothing.  I'm  all  right.  Heat,  I  sup- 
pose." 

Lady  Trask  rang  for  a  glass  of  wine,  and 
urged  her  guest  to  go  up-stairs  and  lie  down. 
But  Mildred  refused.  She  seemed  anxious 
to  get  away. 

When  she  had  gone  Roberta  tried  to  recall 
anything  in  their  conversation  which  might 
have  upset  her  guest,  but  it  seemed  to  her  in- 
nocuous enough.  She  decided  that  it  was  a 
case  of  overwrought  nerves  and  too  much  heat, 
and  let  it  go  at  that. 

She  telephoned  Insull,  but  he  was  not  at  his 
club,  so  she  started  out  on  an  errand,  defying 
the  sun,  which  was  hot.  She  had  not  been  gone 
from  her  house  more  than  half  an  hour  when 
Captain  Insull  rang  her  bell.  Brooks  admitted 
him. 

"Lady  Trask  went  out  half  an  hour  ago. 
Captain  Insull." 

"Did  she  say  how  long  she  would  be  gone?" 

"No,  Captain  Insull,  but  she  was  walking, 
so  she  has  not  gone  far,  I  fancy.  Will  you 
wait,  sir?" 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         147 

"Yes,  I  will  wait  a  bit." 

"Very  good,  sir." 

Brooks  led  the  way  to  the  darkened  drawing- 
room. 

"Muggy  day,  sir.  You'll  find  it  cooler  on 
the  balcony." 

"Thanks.    Anything  new,  Brooks?" 

"Captain  O'Toole  yesterday,  sir." 

"Has  he  been  here  to-day?" 

"No,  sir.  No  one  but  Miss  Mildred  Downer 
to-day." 

"Who  is  on  duty  outside?" 

"Watts,  sir." 

"Did  he  go  after  Lady  Trask?" 

"Yes,  Captain  InsuU." 

"Keep  your  eyes  open." 

"I  do,  sir." 

The  bell  rang  and  he  started  to  answer  it. 

"That  may  be  Lady  Trask  now,  sir." 

As  he  left,  Insull  stepped  out  on  the  balcony 
which  ran  across  the  end  of  the  room,  overlook- 
ing a  tiny  square  of  green  at  the  back  of  the 
house.  The  three  French  windows  that  led 
out  of  the  room  were  all  standing  open  to  let 
in  the  air.  Presently  he  heard  Lady  Trask's 
voice. 

"I  am  at  home  to  no  one.  Brooks." 


148         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 
"Yes,  Madam,  but  if  you  please 


"That  will  do.  I  don't  want  to  be  inter- 
rupted," she  said  curtly. 

He  heard  Brooks  go,  and  still  he  did  not 
step  into  the  room.  Then  he  started  as  she 
spoke  to  a  companion. 

"I  tell  you  I've  reached  the  end  of  my  en- 
durance. They  are  killing  me  by  inches.  I 
won't  stand  it." 

"Lady  Bobs,  dear,  it  is  a  hot  day,  an'  yer 
nerves  arr  all  a- jangle.  I  know  how  you  feel, 
old  dear.  But  don't  decoide  annything  on  a 
day  loike  this.  It  won't  do,"  said  O'Toole's 
caressing  voice. 

"It  isn't  the  weather,  it's  the  whole  thing. 
They  demand  more  and  more.  They  are  never 
satisfied " 

"But  ye've  done  wonders.  Lady  Bobs.  They 
are  hard  taskmasters,  but  They  know  what 
ye've  done — what  a  grand  patriotic  service 
ye've  given  Them " 

"I  tell  you  I'm  through,"  she  said  wearily. 

"Where  is  all  that  fine  glow  ye  started  in 
with?" 

"I've  learned  to  turn  and  twist,  to  equivo- 
cate, to  pump  my  friends,  to  kill Oh,  I 

hate  myself  I" 


The  Clutch  of  Circiunstance         149 

"What  is  the  difference  what  happens  to 
you  or  me,  Bobs,  in  this  foight?  Ye're  workin' 
for  the  spread  of  all  that's  fine  in  the  German 
ideals.  I'm  workin'  for  the  freedom  of  Ire- 
land.   What  do  you  an'  I  count,  I  ask  ye?" 

"But  I  want  my  own  soul  back!"  she  cried 
to  him. 

"It's  too  late.  You're  in  ut,  now,  I  tell  ye. 
You  an'  I  may  have  sold  our  souls,  but  we're 
in  it  now,  and  we  must  stay  to  the  end." 

"I  can  refuse  to  go  on.  There  is  no  evidence 
against  me.  Ashton's  position  would  protect 
me 

O 'Toole  laughed  unpleasantly. 

"My  dear  girl.  Ash  ton,  nor  Lloyd  George, 
nor  the  King,  nor  anybody  can  protect  you, 
once  you  make  an  enemy  of  Konigstrasse." 

**I  can  rely  on  the  support  of  the  strongest 
men  in  England "  she  began. 

"Can  you  rely  on  me?" 

"Larry,  you  mean ?" 

There  was  no  caress  in  the  voice  now. 

"I'd  sell  you  an'  the  whole  British  empire 
to  get  the  freedom  of  Ireland!"  he  warned  her. 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  despair,  of  resig- 
nation. There  was  no  sound  for  a  few  seconds, 
then  Lady  Trask  said  musingly: 


150         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"How  curious  that  what  seemed  the  highest, 
truest  instinct  in  me  for  service  to  high  ideals, 
should  lead  through  degradation  to  destruc- 
tion." 

"Don't  psycho-analyse,  Lady  Bobs.  Do  the 
job  and  let  the  devil  do  the  rest." 

There  followed  a  discussion  of  the  best  way 
to  get  certain  facts.  He  left  her  with  a  word 
of  advice  and  warning.  Presently  she  dragged 
herself  out  of  the  room. 

Almost  at  once  Brooks  entered  hurriedly. 

"Captain  Insull,  are  you ?" 

InsuU  appeared. 

"All  right.  Brooks.  They  did  not  know  I 
was  there.  Announce  me  to  Lady  Trask, 
please.    Say  it  is  very  important." 

When  Brooks  was  gone,  he  went  to  the  win- 
dow and  made  a  signal,  which  sent  a  man 
speeding  down  the  street.  Then  Insull  paced 
the  room  until  Lady  Bobs  appeared.  She  came 
presently,  very  pale  but  perfectly  composed. 

"Bobs,"  he  said,  taking  her  two  hands,  and 
speaking  her  name  so  for  the  first  time,  "my 
poor  Bobs." 

"Ivan,  what  is  it?"  she  asked  him. 

"How  much  do  you  care  for  O'Toole?" 

"What  has  happened  to  Larry?"  tensely. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         151 


*He  is  in  trouble  with  the  authorities- 
'Ohl" 


"Bobs,  he  has  been  your  intimate  friend, 
your  companion  in  public  places.  He  is  facing 
disgrace.  Go  away,  dear,  now  at  once.  Go  to 
Lady  Cecily  for  the  night,  there's  a  good  girl. 
We  will  get  you  on  a  steamer  for  Amer- 
ica  "  he  was  speaking  incoherently  and  she 

stared  at  him. 

"But  why  should  I?" 

"Because — I  cannot  explain  it  now.  I  beg 
you  to  go  away  at  once." 

"Why  do  you  want  me  to  go?" 

"Because  I'd  sell  my  soul  to  keep  you  from 
unhappinessi" 

"Dear  pocket  giant,  I  cannot  go." 

Sir  Ashton  came  into  the  room,  and  after 
a  few  moments  Captain  InsuU  left.  She  saw 
that  Ashton  was  disturbed  about  something. 

"My  dear,  may  I  ask  that  Captain  O'Toole 
be  dismissed  from  our  list?" 

"Why?"  dry-lipped. 

"There  are  some  ugly  rumours  about  the 
gentleman.  It  is  imfortunate  that  he  has  been 
here  so  often " 

"All  right,  Ashton,  I  will  not  see  him  again." 

Brooks  came  to  the  door. 


152         The  Clutxjh  of  Circumstance 

"I  am  very  sorry,  Sir  Ashton,  but  there  are 
some  men  here,  who " 

Two  military  officers  entered  the  room.  Sir 
Ashton  stared  at  them.  They  were  strangers 
to  him. 

"You  wished  to  see  me?"  he  inquired. 

"I  am  sorry.  Sir  Ashton,  but  we  have  a  mil- 
itary warrant  for  Lady  Trask,"  said  the  elder 
man. 

Before  Sir  Ashton  could  reply,  he  stepped  to 
Roberta's  side. 

"Lady  Roberta  Trask,  you  are  under  ar- 
rest,*' he  said  (juietly. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"What  is  the  charge?"  Sir  Ashton  brought 
himself  to  say  at  last. 

"Offence  against  the  Army  Act." 

"Your  warrant,  please." 

"Under  a  special  Espionage  Act,  Sir  Ash- 
ton, military  and  police  authorities  are  given 
power  to  arrest  suspicious  characters  without 
a  warrant.  This  is  our  order,  and  the  charge 
sheet,"  he  added,  offering  Sir  Ashton  these 
documents.  They  were  signed  by  General 
Stoten. 

"We  are  given  time  to  get  witnesses,  to  pre- 
pare a  defence?" 

"The  court  martial  is  set  for  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  night.  Sir  Ashton." 

"I  guarantee  Lady  Trask's  appearance  at 
the  court,  at  the  hour  appointed." 

"Sorry,  Sir  Ashton,  I  am  under  orders  to 
arrest  her.  If  you  will  come  with  me  to  Gen- 
eral Stoten,  he  may  parole  her  in  your  charge." 

"I  will  speak  to  the  General  on  the  tele- 
phone," said  Sir  Ashton. 

153 


154         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

In  a  few  moments  he  summoned  the  officer 
and,  after  a  brief  conversation  on  his  part, 
over  the  'phone,  he  returned  and  withdrew  his 
fellow  officer. 

Sir  Ashton  crossed  swiftly  to  Lady  Trask 
and  put  his  arms  about  her. 

"Courage,  dearest,  this  is  some  monstrous 
mistake.  We  must  answer  this  summons,  but 
we  can  set  it  straight  at  once.  It  is,  of  course, 
because  of  O'Toole " 

"You  have  not  read  that "  she  said,  indi- 
cating the  charge  sheet.  "Ashton,  whatever 
comes  to  us,  I  want  you  to  remember  this,  that 
I  have  been  true  to  the  deepest  instinct  in  me." 

He  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"That  is  all  I  ask,  dearest.'* 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  softly,  and  turned 
to  go. 

"I  will  ask  our  attorneys  to  come  here  at 
once,  Roberta.  There  is  not  much  time  to  go 
into  this " 

"I  must  go  to " 


Her  voice  trailed  off  weakly,  without  finish- 
ing the  sentence.  Sir  Ashton  went  to  the  tele- 
phone again.  He  succeeded  in  finding  Sir 
Andrew  Stark,  the  senior  member,  at  home. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         155 

im^^^^  II     III  — ■ — — • ■ — ^.— — ^^^_ 

He  promised  to  get  a  colleague  and  come  to  the 
house  at  once. 

Presently  Lady  Trask's  maid  ran  down  the 
stairs,  and  called  to  him. 

"Sir  Ashton,  Lady  Trask  is  very  ill,  I 
think." 

He  hurried  up-stairs  after  her,  and  into  his 
wife's  room.  She  was  in  bed,  white  as  chalk, 
and  shaking  with  a  nervous  chill.  She  did  not 
open  her  eyes  when  he  spoke  to  her. 

"She  will  not  speak  to  me  either,  she  just 
shakes  like  that "  the  girl  exclaimed. 

Ashton  summoned  a  physician  and  came 
back  to  sit  with  Roberta,  until  he  arrived.  She 
looked  dead — it  terrified  him.  The  doctor 
seemed  puzzled  by  her  condition.  Ashton  told 
him  she  had  sustained  a  mental  and  nervous 
shock,  that  she  had  been  overwrought  all  sum- 
mer. 

"Frequent  nourishment,  absolute  quiet.  I 
will  send  a  nurse  and  return  myself  at  mid- 
night," the  doctor  said. 

Ashton  remained  until  the  nurse  came  and 
was  installed.  Roberta  did  not  open  her  eyes 
in  all  that  time,  she  would  not  answer  his  ques- 
tions, and  yet  he  knew  that  she  was  not  asleep. 
,  The  attorneys  were  announced  and  he  went 


156         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

down  to  meet  them.  He  explained  the  situa- 
tion, and  his  belief  that  O'Toole  had  involved 
Lady  Trask  as  an  unconscious  victim  of  his 
treachery. 

Sir  Andrew  read  the  charge  sheet  aloud. 

"But  that  is  utterly  impossible,"  cried  Ash- 
ton. 

"That  is  what  we  must  prove,"  said  Sir  An- 
drew, quietly. 

"But  why  does  she  have  to  submit  to  a  court 
martial?  She  should  have  a  civil  trial,"  pro- 
tested Trask. 

"I  had  General  Stoten  on  the  wire  after  I 
talked  to  you.  I  asked  about  that.  Captain 
O'Toole  naturally  comes  before  a  military 
court,  and  Lady  Trask  is  accused  of  being  his 
accomplice.  The  authorities  thought  that  as 
a  court  martial  could  be  conducted  with  abso- 
lutely no  publicity,  that  out  of  deference  to 
you  as  a  member  of  the  Cabinet  it  should  be  so 
conducted." 

"My  feelings  are  not  to  be  considered.  The 
utmost  justice  is  what  I  demand  for  Lady 
Trask.  There  is  no  time  in  twenty-four  hours 
to  prepare  a  defence " 

"Pardon  me.  Sir  Ashton,  there  is  all  the  time 
we  need.    If  Lady  Trask  will  help  us  with  the 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         157 

truth,  we  will  stay  here  until  we  go  to  court 
to-morrow  night." 

"But  Lady  Trask  is  ill — she  cannot  speak." 

"Then  the  trial  must  be  postponed.  How- 
ever, we  will  stay  on,  until  all  hope  of  her  help 
is  futile." 

"You  advise  me  not  to  insist  upon  a  civil 
trial?" 

"If  Lady  Trask  is  innocent,  as  we  all  believe 
her  to  be,  is  it  not  better  that  the  fact  should 
be  proved  before  a  court  sitting  in  secret, 
whose  proceedings  are  never  revealed?  Why 
should  all  England  blaze  with  this  scandal?" 

"If  you  think  she  will  get  justice " 

"I  do." 

With  a  sigh  Ashton  acquiesced,  and  they 
began  to  lay  their  plans  for  the  defence.  Fre- 
quently Ashton  went  up  to  see  Roberta,  to  beg 
her  to  speak  to  him.  At  midnight  the  doctor 
returned,  and  reported  no  change.  All  night 
long,  down  in  the  library,  the  three  men  worked 
on  the  case  of  Lady  Trask. 

Morning  came,  still  she  lay  like  a  dead 
woman.  Ashton  and  the  attorneys  decided 
that  if  at  three  o'clock  there  was  no  change, 
then  Sir  Andrew  would  appeal  to  General 
Stoten  for  a  postponement. 


158         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

A  few  moments  before  that  hour  Ashton 
went  to  Lady  Trask's  bedside.  He  laid  his 
hand  gently  on  hers,  and  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  looked  at  him. 

"Dear " 

"Ashton,  is  it  time  to  go?" 

"Not  yet.  Could  you  see  Sir  Andrew  Stark 
for  a  little  and  tell  him  some  things  he  must 
know?" 

"No,  I  cannot  see  any  one.  I  want  to  be 
alone  until  I  go." 

"But,  Roberta,  we  must  know.  How  can 
we  defend  you  unless  you  help  us?" 

"You  cannot  help  me,  Ashton." 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  would  not  speak  any 
more.    He  reported  this  to  Sir  Andrew. 

"This  looks  serious.  Could  this  shock  have 
unsettled  her  mind?" 

"I  think  her  mind  was  clear." 

The  doctor  reported  at  three  o'clock  that 
Lady  Trask's  heart  was  normal,  her  brain 
clear.    But  she  would  not  speak. 

At  seven  forty-five,  in  silence,  the  two  attor- 
neys and  Sir  Ashton  and  Roberta  drove  to  the 
court.  They  were  a  few  seconds  early.  The 
President  of  the  court  martial,  General  Stoten, 
the  prosecutor  and  the  Judge- Advocate  were 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         159 

consulting  together.  Mildred  Downer  and 
Captain  Ivan  Insull  sat  together,  and  beyond 
them  Brooks,  the  butler.  Several  of  the  officers 
composing  the  court,  in  fact  nearly  every  one 
in  the  room  was  known  to  the  Trasks.  It 
seemed  a  friendly  gathering.  Larry  O' Toole 
sat  with  his  attorney.  He  rose  and  smiled 
when  Lady  Trask  bowed  to  him. 

Roberta  smiled  and  bowed  to  them  all,  and 
sat  down.  She  felt  slightly  amused  by  the 
solemnity  of  the  occasion.  She  seemed  not  to 
look  and  yet  she  saw  how  Mildred  Downer  wet 
her  lips  with  her  tongue  continually,  how 
Brooks  cleared  his  throat.  Why  did  they  have 
Brooks? 

The  President  of  the  Court  took  his  place 
and  called  the  court  to  order.  Ashton  and  the 
attorneys  came  to  sit  beside  Roberta.  The 
names  and  rank  of  all  officers  composing  the 
court  were  read.  The  Judge  Advocate  admin- 
istered the  oath  to  the  President  who  repeated 
it  solemnly: 

"I  do  swear  that  I  will  not,  unless  it  is  neces- 
sary for  due  discharge  of  my  official  duties, 
divulge  the  sentence  of  this  court  martial, 
until  it  is  duly  confirmed,  and  that  I  will  not. 


160         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

on  any  account,  at  any  time  whatsoever,  dis- 
close or  discover  the  vote  or  opinion  of  any  par- 
ticular member  of  this  court  martial  unless 
thereunto  required  in  due  course  of  law, 
"So  Help  Me  God!" 

The  oath  was  taken  by  each  member  of  the 
court.  Then  the  prosecutor  read  the  charge. 
He  first  read  the  indictment  against  Captain 
Larry  O 'Toole,  charged  with  being  a  spy  in 
the  service  and  pay  of  the  enemy.  A  list  of  a 
dozen  particular  acts  followed  which  gave  aid 
and  comfort  to  the  enemy.  There  was  no 
sound  of  breathing  in  the  room,  so  tense  was 
the  attention. 

The  indictment  was  read  against  Lady 
Roberta  Trask.  She  was  charged  with  being 
a  spy,  in  the  service  of  the  enemy,  working  in 
collaboration  vnth  Captain  O 'Toole.  The 
specific  act  of  treason  was  the  revelation  to  the 
enemy  of  the  name  of  the  warship  on  which 
Lord  Kendrick  had  sailed. 

Roberta  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  the 
left.  She  could  feel  Ashton's  body  in  the  next 
chair  tremble.  She  wished  he  need  not  suffer 
so ;  she  had  no  sensation  herself. 

The  court  proceeded  to  satisfy  itself  that 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         161 

the  charges  brought  were  against  offenders 
amenable  to  military  law  and  the  jurisdiction 
of  this  court.  That  each  charge  disclosed  an 
offence  against  the  Army  Act. 

Ashton  leaned  over  and  whispered  to  her. 

"Say  'not  guilty'  when  they  ask  you." 

The  prosecutor  asked  Captain  O'Toole 
whether  he  plead  "Guilty  or  not  guilty." 

"Not  guilty,"  he  replied  in  a  steady  voice. 

"Lady  Roberta  Trask,  do  you  plead  guilty 
or  not  guilty?" 

"Guilty,"  she  said  quietly. 

Sir  Andrew  started  up,  but  the  President 
asked  her  if  she  understood  the  nature  of  the 
charge,  and  the  general  effect  of  pleading 
guilty.  He  explained  at  length  and  he  advised 
her  to  withdraw  the  plea. 

"Guilty,"  repeated  Lady  Bobs. 

The  prosecutor  began  an  address.  Roberta 
did  not  listen.  She  seemed  to  be  back  in  New 
York,  a  child.  She  was  in  the  big  old-fash- 
ioned house  where  Heinrich  Briick  had  lived. 
His  voice  was  in  her  ears — "Deep,  deeper  than 
anything  in  your  life  is  this  love  of  fatherland. 
Give  your  love  to  this  young  America,  lieb- 
chen,  but  let  your  deepest  loyalty  be  for  the 


162         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

traditions  of  your  mother's  race.  Count  no 
sacrifice  too  great,  not  even  life  itself.'* 

There  was  some  movement  in  the  room,  and 
Roberta's  spirit  came  back.  Mildred  Downer 
was  called  and  sworn,  to  give  testimony  against 
Larry  O' Toole.  How  topsy-turvy  life  was! 
If  Larry  had  not  kissed  her  on  the  stairs,  she 
might  not  now  be  swearing  away  his  honour.  It 
was  a  big  price  for  a  kiss.  .  .  .  Larry's  attor- 
ney tried  to  get  into  the  testimony  the  motive 
which  caused  her  to  set  a  watch  on  the  Captain. 

"Why  did  you  collect  evidence  against  Cap- 
tain O'Toole?" 

"Because  I  wished  to  rid  my  country  of  her 
enemies." 

"It  was  patriotism  alone  which  prompted 
your  action?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  suspect  that  Captain  O'Toole  was 
working  with  the  aid  of  Lady  Trask?" 

"I  had  no  suspicion  of  Lady  Trask." 

"Yet  you  carried  your  suspicions  to  head- 
quarters and  had  a  secret  service  agent  ap- 
pointed to  follow  Lady  Trask." 

"I  did  not  know  that  was  to  be  done.  I  said 
repeatedly  that  I  did  not  doubt  Lady  Trask  I'* 

"If  you  had  doubted  her,  your  patriotism 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         163 

would  not  have  driven  you  to  give  evidence 
against  Captain  O'Toole?" 

"If  I  had  doubted  her,  I  would  have  given 
the  evidence  just  the  same.  My  country  de- 
manded that  of  me." 

She  was  dismissed  and  Brooks  was  called 
and  sworn.  He  stated  his  term  of  service  to 
the  Trasks  and  admitted  that  for  the  last  six 
weeks  he  had  been  in  the  service  of  the  govern- 
ment authorities. 

He  testified  that  Captain  O'Toole  was  a 
constant  guest  at  the  Trasks'  house.  He  had 
never  heard  any  treasonable  conversation  be- 
tween them  until  the  afternoon  before,  when 
he  had  heard  Lady  Trask  threaten  to  defy 
some  authority  which  she  called  Them,  and 
Captain  O'Toole  had  threatened  her  with  dis- 
grace. He  had  never  seen  any  exchange  of 
papers  or  documents  between  them,  etc.,  etc. 

The  various  counts  against  O'Toole  were 
established  slowly  and  painfully. 

"You  wear  the  uniform  of  a  British  officer. 
Captain  O'Toole.  Were  you  ever  loyal  in 
heart  and  deed  to  England?" 

"I  am  loyal  in  heart  an'  deed,  to  one  coun- 
try, and  only  one — to  me  own  country — ^to  Ire- 
land!" he  replied. 


164         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

He  was  asked  if  he  would  testify  as  a  wit- 
ness.   He  refused. 

The  case  of  Lady  Trask  was  opened.  The 
same  technicalities  were  gone  through  with. 

"Your  nationality.  Lady  Trask?" 

"German." 

There  was  a  stir  at  that.  Sir  Ashton  pro- 
tested, and  was  called  to  order. 

"Where  were  you  born?" 

"In  New  York  City,  the  United  States." 

"Your  father's  name?" 

"Henry  Hancock." 

"His  nationality?" 

"American." 

"Your  mother's  name?" 

"Adelaide  Bruck." 

"Her  birthplace?" 

"New  York  City." 

"Why  do  you  say  that  you  are  of  German 
nationality  when  you  were  born  in  New  York, 
of  American-born  parents  ?" 

"Because  I  choose  Germany  as  my  father- 
land. My  birth  in  New  York  was  an  acci- 
dent." 

"Did  you  enter  into  marriage  previous  to 
your  present  union?" 

"Yes.    I  married  Andrew  Bouton,  an  Amer- 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         165 

lean,  when  I  was  eighteen.    He  died  when  I 
was  twenty." 

"Did  he  have  German  sympathies?" 

"No.    He  was  very  American." 

"You  married  Sir  Ash  ton  Trask  when?" 

"In  1901." 

"You  became  an  English  citizen,  by  your 
marriage  to  an  English  subject." 

"I  have  never  been  an  English  citizen  in  my 
own  mind." 

"That  does  not  concern  us.  You  were  such 
by  law." 

Roberta  smiled  at  that. 

"On  what  date  did  you  begin  collusion  with 
the  enemy?" 

"In  May,  on  the  day  the  Premier  spoke " 

she  gave  the  place  and  the  date. 

"Did  anything  said  by  the  Premier  on  that 
occasion  lead  you  to  so  act?" 

"The  whole  mental  attitude  of  the  English 
people,  for  whom  he  was  spokesman,  moved 
me  to  the  act." 

"What  mental  attitude  do  you  refer  to?" 

"The  attitude  of  a  superior  Anglo-Saxon 
race,  called  upon  to  destroy  barbarians." 

"That  is  the  belief  of  the  entire  world.  Lady 


166         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Trask,  not  only  of  'a  superior  Anglo-Saxon 
race,'  as  you  call  us." 

"It  was  against  that  belief  that  I  rebelled." 

"By  what  means  did  you  establish  communi- 
cation with  the  enemy?" 

"They  had  sent  me  many  messages  during 
the  years  of  war,  urging  me  to  serve  them.  I 
was  told  a  watchman  guarded  my  house  night 
and  day.  That  when  I  had  something  to  com- 
municate, if  I  made  a  certain  sign,  an  agent 
would  be  sent  to  me.    I  made  the  sign." 

"Who  was  the  agent  who  was  sent?" 

"Captain  O'Toole." 

Sir  Ashton  was  asked  to  testify  in  regard  to 
Lady  Trask's  German  descent.  He  said  that 
while  she  spoke  sometimes  in  derision  of  Brit- 
ish faults,  and  American  faults,  that  she  had 
never  spoken  in  his  presence,  in  defence  of 
Germany,  never  admitted  a  basic  devotion  to 
the  enemy's  country. 

"How  did  the  name  of  the  warship  on  which 
Lord  Kendrick  sailed  come  into  your  posses- 
sion?" she  was  asked. 

"By  accident." 

Sir  Ashton  asked  permission  to  testify  to 
that  point  and  it  was  granted  him. 

"I  take  full  blame  for  the  fact  that  Lady 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         167 

Trask  gained  this  information.  She  knew, 
because  I  told  her  the  name  of  the  ship." 

"You  knew  that  to  be  a  state  secret.  Sir 
Ashton?" 

"I  did.  In  speaking  of  Lord  Kendrick's 
departure,  by  a  slip  of  the  tongue,  I  spoke  the 
name." 

"You  realised  your  mistake?" 

"Yes." 

"You  warned  Lady  Trask  not  to  repeat  it?" 

He  hesitated  a  second. 

"Yes." 

"You  had  no  reason  to  fear,  at  that  time, 
that  she  would  use  the  information?" 

"No,  none." 

"You  very  gravely  neglected  your  duty,  Sir 
Ashton,  by  this  breach  of  confidence." 

"I  know  that,  milord.  I  beg  that  I  may 
suffer  the  full  penalty  of  this  breach.  It  was 
in  no  way  the  fault  of  Lady  Trask.  The  pos- 
session of  this  knowledge  was  a  terrible  tempta- 
tion put  in  her  way." 

Lady  Trask  was  recalled. 

"What  motive  inspired  your  action  in  regard 
to  the  Hartshire?" 

"It  was  the  greatest  service  I  could  do  Grer- 
many."  ^ 


168         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Was  there  any  personal  reason  why  you 
wished  Lord  Kendrick  destroyed?" 

"I  refuse  to  answer." 

"Was  Lord  Kendrick  your  lover?" 

"No." 

Brooks  was  called.  He  reported  that  Lord 
Kendrick  had  visited  Lady  Trask  the  day  be- 
fore his  death.  He  testified  that  they  had  quar- 
relled, that  Lord  Kendrick  left  in  a  fury,  and 
that  Lady  Trask  seemed  like  a  crazy  woman 
after  he  was  gone.  She  dined  in  her  room,  but 
as  soon  as  Sir  Ashton  was  off  to  his  club,  she 
summoned  O'Toole.  They  had  a  conference, 
which  Brooks  did  not  hear,  and  the  Captain 
left  hastily. 

"Lady  Trask,  is  it  true  that  on  the  occasion 
of  your  last  talk  with  Lord  Kendrick  you 
quarrelled?" 

"I  refuse  to  answer." 

The  prosecutor  pointed  out  to  her  that  this 
refusal  to  answer  would  be  used  against  her. 
There  was  a  whispered  conference  between  the 
attorneys;  they  urged  Lady  Trask  to  tell  the 
truth,  but  she  refused.  She  was  asked  if  she 
would  call  witnesses,  and  refused,  again  con- 
trary to  advice.  Sir  Ashton  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  speak  as  witness  to  her  character. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         169 

and  made  an  impassioned  plea  for  her.  She 
was  high-strung,  impetuous.  An  enemy,  dia- 
bolic in  its  cleverness,  had  tempted  her  past  en- 
durance. A  moment's  impatience,  a  second 
of  revolt  against  what  she  felt  to  be  bigotry, 
had  caused  her  to  set  her  feet  into  the  trap 
Germany  had  laid  for  her.  Then  there  was 
no  turning  back. 

He  pictured  the  anguish  of  a  sensitive  per- 
son so  caught  and  driven.  He  repeated  the 
testimony,  entered  by  Brooks,  in  which  she  had 
tried  to  defy  her  masters.  She  had  not  known 
what  she  was  doing,  she  was  victim,  not  crim- 
inal. Let  the  court  order  exile  for  life,  for 
both  of  them,  and  he  would  take  her  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth. 

There  were  tears  in  every  one's  eyes.  Mil- 
dred Downer  sobbed  aloud.  Roberta  turned 
and  looked  at  Ashton,  as  he  sat,  white,  shaken 
and  spent.  How  could  he  have  sensed  so 
quickly  the  Golgotha  she  had  trod?  His  eyes 
were  tender  for  her  weakness,  but  she  knew 
how  he  despised  her  crime. 

Captain  Ivan  InsuU  was  called  and  sworn. 
Roberta  only  half  listened  to  his  open  state- 
ments, but  suddenly  her  full  attention  focussed. 

"I  am  in  the  secret  service  of  the  govern- 


170         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

ment,  and  I  was  assigned  to  the  case  of  Lady 
Trask  on  June  8." 

That  sentence  burned  into  Roberta's  con- 
sciousness. She  had  been  fooled,  and  duped 
by  this  man  whom  she  had  made  her  intimate 
friend!  The  whole  thing  came  to  her.  His 
introduction  to  Cecily  by  the  man  to  whom 
Mildred  had  carried  her  suspicions.  But  how 
could  Ivan,  the  singing  giant,  be ? 

He  told  in  detail  all  the  evidence  which  he 
had  collected,  including  her  intimacy  with 
O'Toole. 

"Yesterday  I  went  to  call  on  Lady  Trask. 
She  was  out.  Brooks  ushered  me  in,  to  wait. 
I  stepped  out  on  to  a  balcony,  which  hangs 
outside  the  drawing-room.  She  came  in,  pres- 
ently, with  Captain  O'Toole.  Before  I  could 
announce  myself,  or  make  an  escape,  they 
began  the  conversation  which  Brooks  has  re- 
ported. They  did  not  discover  me.  When 
they  were  gone,  I  made  my  report  to  headquar- 
ters and  the  arrests  followed." 

Roberta  looked  at  him.  He  had  much  more 
the  appearance  of  a  man  facing  death  sentence 
than  did  Captain  O'Toole. 

The  president  praised  him  for  his  work,  and 
congratulated  him  upon  the  arrests. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         171 

The  evidence  was  all  in  now.  The  Judge 
Advocate  asked  Lady  Trask  if  she  wished  to 
speak.  She  rose  slowly  and  swept  them  all 
with  friendly  eyes. 

"Milord,  and  gentlemen,  and  friends,  I  have 
nothing  to  say  in  my  own  defence.  Two 
months  ago  I  undertook  a  service,  in  which  I 
was  prepared  to  give  my  life,  if  need  be.  I^ 
undertook  it,  in  a  spirit  of  high  resolve,  and 
deep  devotion  to  certain  ideals  which  I  believe 
to  be  of  supreme  value  to  the  world.  Now, 
in  these  days  of  war,  when  all  values  are  ob- 
scured by  fury,  and  hatred  and  passion,  I  know 
that  these  ideals  are  lost  to  view.  But  in  the 
innermost  heart  of  my  fatherland  they  lie  dor- 
mant, and  when  the  world  is  rebuilt,  they  will 
be  the  steel  girders  of  its  framework.  England 
and  America  and  all  the  nations  must  make  the 
contribution  of  their  highest  and  best,  too. 

"What  is  this  thing  we  call  patriotism?  It 
makes  me  sacrifice  the  closest  human  tie,  to 
serve  Germany.  It  makes  Captain  O'Toole 
ready  to  offer  his  honour,  if  only  Ireland  can 
be  freed.  It  makes  Mildred  Downer  sacrifice 
her  friends,  it  sets  Captain  Insull  as  a  spy  in 
the  house  of  his  intimates! 

"Surely  if  any  one  of  these  is  treachery,  then 


172         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

all  of  them  are  treachery.  Yet  the  president 
of  this  court  congratulates  Captain  InsuU  on 
his  service  to  England.  What  makes  the  act 
good  or  bad,  if  the  motive  is  service  to  an  ideal? 
Why  cannot  this  fierce  passion,  planted  in 
each  of  us,  be  made  to  serve  all  of  us  more 
truly? 

"For  my  own  part,  I  have  but  one  regret, 
that  Sir  Ashton  Trask,  whose  patriotism  and 
nobility  of  character  is  known  to  all  of  you, 
should  be  made  to  suffer  so  terribly  in  order 
that  I  may  be  true  to  my  country. 

"Whatever  the  sentence  of  this  court,  I  shall 
abide  by  it  as  cheerfully  as  I  may,  in  the  knowl- 
edge that  this  court  is  actuated  by  high  prin- 
ciples of  justice  and  patriotism." 

The  Judge  Advocate  then  summed  up  the 
case.  The  court  retired  into  closed  chambers 
to  deliberate  the  findings.  No  one  moved,  or 
spoke.  The  tension  was  terrible.  A  clock 
jabbed  the  silence  with  its  tick-tick.  Roberta 
had  no  sense  of  being  in  that  room,  after  a 
little.  She  was  suspended  somewhere  in  space 
— she  was  at  peace. 

Every  person  in  the  room  sat  with  eyes  on 
the  closed  door.  The  concentrated  urgency 
of  those  eyes  finally  burst  it  open — at  least  so 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         173 

it  seemed  to  the  watchers.  In  solemn  file  the 
officers  filed  in  again,  and  took  their  seats. 

"We,  the  members  of  this  court  martial,  find 
Captain  Larry  O'Toole  guilty  of  treason,  as 
a  spy.  The  court  sentences  him  to  suffer 
death,  at  dawn,  by  being  shot." 

Roberta's  eyes  dragged  themselves  across 
to  Larry's  face.  He  was  looking  at  her.  He 
smiled  and  nodded  gaily.    The  voice  went  on: 

"We,  the  members  of  this  court  martial,  find 
Lady  Roberta  Trask  guilty  as  a  spy,  but  in 
view  of  her  relationship  to  a  valued  and  patri- 
otic British  subject,  whose  services  to  England 
have  been  tireless  and  unremitting,  we  con- 
demn Lady  Trask  to  death  by  her  own  hand. 
If  on  the  first  day  of  July,  of  this  year  1916, 
she  be  not  dead,  then  this  court  sentences  her 
to  face  a  firing  squad,  and  to  suffer  death  by 
being  shot. 

"Lady  Trask  is  hereby  committed  to  the  cus- 
tody of  Sir  Ashton  Trask.  It  shall  be  his  duty 
to  see  that  she  has  no  communication  with  the 
enemy,  from  now  until  the  day  of  her  demise.'* 

In  silence  the  president  of  the  court  signed 
the  sentence,  and  the  Judge  Advocate  did  like- 
wise. The  court  was  adjourned,  and  the  offi- 
cers marched  out  of  the  room.    Larry  O'Toole 


174         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

came  across  the  room  to  Lady  Bobs,  his  hands 
out. 

"  'Tis  a  foine  woman  ye  are,  Lady  Bobs.  I 
kiss  yer  hands.    I'll  be  seein'  ye  soon,  maybe.'* 

"Good  luck,  and  au  'voir,  Larry,"  she  an- 
swered calmly. 

Mildred  Downer,  her  face  swollen  with 
weeping,  tried  to  speak  to  Lady  Trask,  but 
she  broke  down,  and  hurried  away  sobbing 
hysterically.  Ivan  InsuU  started  toward  her, 
his  face  grey  and  drawn  with  suffering,  but 
she  turned  away  deliberately.  For  him  she 
had  no  pity. 

They  were  all  gone  now,  and  with  the  last 
word  of  counsel  from  Sir  Andrew  she  and 
Ashton  were  alone.  He  dropped  into  a  chair, 
and  laid  his  head  on  his  arms,  crossed  on  the 
chair  back,  and  deep  sobs  racked  him.  For 
the  first  time  Roberta  felt,  poignantly.  She 
went  to  him,  and  bent  over  him,  her  hands 
seeking  to  comfort  him. 

"My  dear — ^my  dear,  don't!"  she  begged.  "It 
is  all  right,  Ashton.    Come  home,  dear,  please." 

He  did  not  lift  his  head,  and  at  the  sound  of 
her  voice  his  agony  mastered  him. 

"Don't  cry.  I'm  not  worth  one  tear,  Ash- 
ton." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         175 

When  finally  he  gained  control  of  himself, 
she  found  his  hat  and  coat  for  him,  she  led  him, 
as  a  mother  her  little  suffering  boy,  out  to  the 
motor  which  waited  for  them.  All  the  way 
home  he  held  her  close  in  his  arms,  and  they 
spoke  no  word. 


PART  FOUKi 


PART  FOUR 
CHAPTER  I 

When  they  arrived  at  home,  after  the  brief 
silent  trip  in  the  motor,  from  the  court  room. 
Lady  Bobs  turned  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
and  waited  until  Ashton  laid  off  his  hat  and 
coat. 

"Would  it  help  you  if  I — if  we  sat  together 
for  a  while  and  faced  this  thing  out?"  she 
asked. 

"You're  very  tired?" 

"Yes,  I  am.  But  I  want  to  consider  you 
only " 

"Do  you  think  you  can  sleep  ?" 

"Yes.  I  have  not  slept  for  weeks,  but  to- 
night I  think  I  can  rest,"  she  said  slowly,  her 
black  circled  eyes  lifted  to  him. 

"Go  to  bed,  then.  Beloved.  We  will  talk 
to-morrow,"  he  urged  her. 

"But  will  you  sleep,  Ashton?" 

"No.  I  have  some  work  to  do.  I  will  keep 
my  mind  busy  on  other  things,  until  to-mor- 
row." 

179 


180         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

She  laid  her  hands  on  his  shoulders,  as  he 
stood  below  her. 

"I  can  never  say  what  your  understanding, 
what  your  support  to-night  has  meant " 

She  broke  off,  laid  her  cheek  for  a  second 
against  his  hair,  and  climbed  slowly  up  the 
stairs  and  out  of  his  sight. 

He  turned  and  walked  quickly  into  the  small 
study  which  he  used  as  office.  He  carefully 
arranged  the  working  light.  He  unstrapped 
and  laid  out  his  papers  in  order.  He  went  to 
his  cellarette  and  measured  himself  a  stiff  drink 
of  brandy.  Then,  by  a  terrific  exercise  of  will, 
he  gave  his  attention  to  the  work  in  hand.  It 
was  as  if  he  forced  himself  into  a  tiny  dark 
chamber  of  his  own  mind.  He  sealed  the  win- 
dows and  doors  that  no  air  might  come  in,  that 
no  light  from  outside  might  penetrate.  There 
in  the  darkness,  he  gave  his  full,  concentrated 
attention  to  this  business,  which  was  England's 
business,  and  therefore  required  his  best. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  when  the  last  pe- 
riod was  placed.  He  ran  his  hand  across  his 
brow,  and  it  came  off  wet.  He  felt  himself  hot 
and  perspiring  from  the  strain  he  had  been 
under. 

He  turned  off  the  light,  and  crossed  the  room 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         181 

to  raise  the  shades  and  open  the  window.  The 
daily  miracle  of  dawn  was  at  hand.  London 
lay  out  there,  half  distinguished  in  the  opal- 
escent mist.  Birds  stirred  and  cheeped.  The 
roar  of  the  huge  city  was  muffled,  indistinct. 
The  houses  looked  indefinite  in  the  light,  as  if 
they  might  be  the  frail  habitation  of  ghosts. 
And  were  they  not?  Was  there  a  roof,  in  all 
those  acres  of  dwellings,  where  a  ghost  of  some 
kind  did  not  lift  its  eyeless  skull?  How  the 
agony  of  humanity  outweighs  its  rapture! 
How,  in  these  days,  war  laid  its  bloody  hand 
on  every  human  life.  .  .  .  Not  only  here,  in 
this  faint  dream-city,  which  he  looked  upon, 
but  in  India,  Australia,  Canada,  Italy,  France, 
Russia,  in  Turkey,  Greece,  in  Germany  and 
Austria  the  same  dawn  ushered  in  the  same 
terror,  the  same  human  suffering. 

It  was  by  such  avenues  that  Ashton's  tired 
thoughts  journeyed  back  towards  the  tragedy 
which  had  suddenly  smitten  his  life  into  ruins. 
A  fierce  rebellion  against  the  anguish  that  was 
let  loose  in  him,  rose  and  choked  him.  The 
memory  of  the  court  room,  the  thought  of 
Roberta,  pilloried  there  with  a  common  spy, 
like  O' Toole,  condemned  to  a  hideous  death — 
even  as  he  was — it  almost  bereft  him  of  reason. 


182         The  Clutch  of  Cu*cmnstance 

This  woman,  guilty  of  the  most  heinous 
crime  in  the  history  of  the  war,  was  his  wife  I 
Why  could  he  not  see  her  as  she  was,  traitor 
to  all  he  held  sacred?  Why  could  he  not  hate 
her  and  cast  her  from  his  thoughts? 

At  the  same  moment,  his  love,  strong  as  it 
was  tortured,  hovered  about  the  thought  of 
her.  Standing  there,  in  the  dawn,  by  the 
alchemy  of  his  tenderness,  he  seemed  to  enter 
into  the  very  soul  of  her,  and  know  all  its  se- 
crets. He  understood  her  as  no  one  else  did, 
with  her  impetuous,  passionate  loyalties.  If 
only  those  loyalties  might  have  included  him  I 
He  recalled  that  thought  as  unfair. 

He  visioned  himself  as  married  to  Roberta, 
a  native-born  German  citizen,  and  living  in 
Berlin.  He  reversed  the  whole  situation,  with 
Sir  Ashton  Trask  tempted  to  help  England, 
at  any  cost.  Suppose  the  chance  came  to  him 
to  connive  at  the  death  of  HindenburgI  How 
could  he  say  in  the  fervour  to  serve  Eng- 
land that  he  would  find  strength  to  resist, 
because  of  loyalty  to  his  wife?  Where  was  the 
ultimate  loyalty?  Was  it  to  wife,  or  to  coun- 
try? 

The  sun's  rays  were  piercing  the  mists  over 
London-town    now.      Banners    and    ragged 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         188 

scarves  of  light  fluttered  overhead.  .  .  .  He 
wondered  how  his  mother  would  have  met  this 
catastrophe,  had  his  own  father  been  the  vic- 
tim? He  knew  her  true  sense  of  justice — ^but 
she  had  stricter  standards  of  morality  than  he — 
she  was  not  so  dependent  upon  the  people  she 
loved.  .  .  .  But  it  was  not  her  problem,  it 
was  his.  His,  and  Roberta's  for  a  little  while, 
then  his  forever.  At  the  thought  of  her  going, 
he  felt  in  himself  the  pangs  of  death. 

The  stir  was  beginning  in  the  house  about 
him.  The  clear  bright  sun  of  early  morning 
streamed  into  the  room.  He  went  upsl^^irs, 
had  a  cold  bath  and  tried  to  rest.  He  stopped 
a  second  to  listen  outside  Roberta's  door,  on  his 
way  down  to  breakfast.  He  took  up  his  paper 
and  tried  to  look  at  the  news.  Presently  he 
was  startled  by  her  entrance. 

"Roberta!" 

**Gk)od  morning,  Ashton.  Ah,  you  did  not 
keep  your  promise,  my  dear,"  she  added,  her 
eyes  on  his  face,  marked  with  suffering. 

"I  did  my  best.    And  you?" 

"I  slept." 

The  breakfast  was  brought,  and  he  followed 
her  deliberate  lead  into  the  protective  conven- 
tions.    Once  or  twice  he  looked  at  her,  and 


184         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

wondered  if  the  night  before  had  been  a  hide- 
ous nightmare. 

When  the  meal  was  over  she  rose  at  once. 

"I  have  some  letters  to  write,  Ashton.  Will 
you  come  to  my  sitting-room  in  an  hour?" 

He  nodded.  When  she  was  gone  he  tried  to 
busy  himself  for  that  hour.  He  was  impatient 
for  their  talk,  he  dreaded  it  utterly.  He  tried 
in  vain  to  read.  In  the  end  he  paced  up  and 
down  the  library,  at  the  mercy  of  his  emotions. 
A  hundred  times  he  looked  at  his  watch  before 
it  was  time  to  present  himself  at  Roberta's 
door. 

He  found  her  at  her  desk.  She  was  calm, 
interested  in  her  task.  She  glanced  up  and 
smiled. 

"Sit  down  a  minute,  until  I  finish  this,  will 
you?" 

He  sat  down  on  the  couch  and  looked  about 
him.  The  room  was  the  same.  Hundreds  of 
times  he  had  sat  here,  while  Roberta  played 
to  him,  hundreds  of  times  they  had  sat  here 
together,  before  her  fire,  and  talked.  He 
looked  at  her.  She  was  the  same  gracious  pres- 
ence.   It  was  not  true  that  she  was  to  die  1 

With  a  sigh  she  turned  and  came  toward 
him. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         185 

"Dear,  we  cannot  escape  this  talk,"  she  said. 
"I  wish  you  might  have  had  some  rest  to  help 
you." 

"I'm  all  right,"  he  assured  her. 

"I  have  been  going  over  my  things " 

He  laid  his  hand  on  hers  in  protest. 

"Must  you?" 

"Dear,  I  have  only  twelve  days,  you 
know " 

"Oh,  don't!"  he  begged  her,  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

"Ashton  dear,  I  wish  I  could  make  you  see 
it  as  I  do,"  she  said,  her  hand  smoothing  his 
bent  head.  "Can't  we  say  that  I  have  made  a 
journey  into  a  dangerous  country,  and  given 
my  life  as  forfeit?" 

"No,  no.  It  is  not  right — it  is  not  'justice, 
tempered  with  mercy.'  We  have  mixed  it  all 
up  somehow,"  he  protested. 

"Perhaps.  The  essential  thing  to  us  is,  that 
the  price  must  be  paid." 

He  groaned. 

"Ashton,  the  horror  is  all  gone  for  me.  I 
have  paid  for  months  a  price  that  makes 
Death  seem  a  trifle,"  she  said. 

He  rose  and  faced  her. 

"My  poor  Roberta!" 


186         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"No,  no  pity!  I  chose  my  path,  I  saw 
where  it  might  lead,  I  have  come  now  to  that 
place.  Sometime,  before  I  go  on,  I  want  you 
to  know  every  step  of  that  road,  but  not  now. 
Let  us  dispose  of  certain  essentials,  so  that  we 
need  not  mention  them  again " 

"As  you  like,  dear." 

"I  have  a  list  here  of  personal  things  to  go 
to  my  intimate  friends.  We  will,  of  course, 
decide  on  some  cause  for  my  death,  to  be  made 
public.  But  let  us  arrange  now  that  this  list 
is  in  the  top  drawer  of  my  desk,  where  you  will 
find  it." 

"Yes,"  he  agreed. 

"My  books  and  music  I  want  you  to  have 
and  anything  else  you  would  like " 

He  turned  away  and  she  paused  a  second. 

"I  have  made  some  legacies  for  the  ser- 
vants, and  named  some  small  possessions  of 
mine  which  they  might  like." 

"I  will  attend  to  it,"  he  forced  himself  to 
say. 

"Here  is  a  list  of  people  to  whom  I  want  to 
leave  money,  here  my  list  of  charities.  My 
will  is  in  the  safety  deposit  vault,  as  you  know. 
I  want  you  to  have  as  little  trouble  as  pos- 
sible  " 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         187 


"Oh,  Roberta- 


She  put  her  arms  about  him.  He  leaned 
his  cheek  on  her  hair,  and  they  were  silent  for 
a  httle. 

"We  must  face  this  last  thing,  Ashton — the 
manner  of — my  going." 

"No,  I  cannot." 

"It  is  infinitely  harder  for  you  than  it  is  for 
me.  I  know  that.  My  only  desire  is  to  spare 
you,  if  I  can.  What  is  your  wish  in  the  mat- 
ter? Shall  we  decide  now  how  I  am  to  go,  and 
when?" 

"You  will  not  go  until  you  have  to?  You 
will  give  me  these  twelve  brief  days?"  he 
begged  her. 

"Yes,  dear,  of  course." 

"Promise?" 

"I  promise.  I  have  a  feeling — can  you  bear 
this,  Ashton? — a  feeUng  that  I  owe  it  to  the 
gods  to  shoot  myself." 

"No— no^no." 

"How  then?" 

"Oh,  must  we  decide  this  ghastly  thing?"  he 
cried,  out  of  the  bitterness  of  his  agony. 

"We  need  not,  if  it  hurts  too  terribly.  Sup- 
pose we  leave  it  to  me " 

"That  is  too  damnable.    Whatever  it  is,  in 


188         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

the  end,  beloved,  let  it  be  my  responsibility.  I 
could  teach  my  hand  to  hold  a  revolver,  to  aim 
at  you,  to  fire  at  you,  if  it  would  spare  you  one 
jot  of  the  horror." 

"Dear  heart,  it  is  not  a  horror!  Look  at  it 
with  me.  Death  is  a  friend  come  to  lead  me 
out  of  a  tangle  I  could  no  longer  stumble  in. 
Let  him  free  me  the  old  Greek  way,  with  a  cup 
of  hemlock.  There's  a  sort  of  glory  in  that. 
Shall  we  say  that  we  close  this  subject  until  the 
eleventh  hour  is  come?" 

"Yes,  yes.  I  may  find  a  little  strength, 
if  you  will  help  me." 

"I  shall,"  she  said  gently. 

"What  would  you  like  to  do  with  these 
days?"  he  asked  her. 

"I  should  like  to  spend  them  quietly  with 
you,  in  Surrey.    Could  you  manage  that?" 

"Yes,  it  must  be  managed.  Let  us  go  to- 
morrow." 

"Thank  you." 

She  drew  away  from  him  and  said : 

"Ashton,  do  you  want  my  word  that  my 
services  to — to  my  country  are  at  an  end?" 

"I  do  not  need  it." 

"I  feel  certain  that  when  Larry  was  arrested 
he  sent  Them  word  of  our  undoing." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         189 

"Let  us  not  speak  of  it,"  urgently. 

"Not  again.  I  wanted  you  to  be  sure  of  me, 
now." 

He  bowed,  his  face  haggard  with  emotion 
and  weariness.  She  scarcely  dared  look  at  him, 
so  poignant  was  his  expression. 

"Ashton,  this  is  not  fair  to  you  I  I  wish  my 
soul  ha4  mounted  this  morning,  with  Larry's, 
so  you  might  have  been  spared  this." 

"Don't  say  that — don't  think  it!  You  can- 
not know  what  this  reprieve  means  to  me. 
Twelve  days,  why  Heaven  and  earth  were 
made  in  less!  Let  us  pretend  that  we  have 
been  offered  twelve  days  in  Paradise.  Le^  not 
one  word  or  thought  penetrate  there,  which  is 
not  the  child  of  happiness  and  love.  Shall  we 
make  these  twelve  brief  days  of  ours,  a  Golden 
Age,  beloved?" 

She  looked  into  his  eyes,  his  stricken  tender 
eyes,  and  her  own  filled  with  tears. 

"Am  I  fit  to  enter  Paradise  with  you.  Ash- 
ton?  Will  not  the  Angel  with  the  Flaming 
Sword  cast  me  out?" 

"No  sword  shall  bar  your  way,  my  Roberta. 
Love  guards  our  gate." 

"Ashton,  I'm  so  imworthy " 


190         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"My  love,  you  are  the  heart  of  me!"  he  an- 
swered. 

There  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Roberta 
answered  it. 

"A  package,  by  messenger,  Lady  Trask." 

"Thank  you." 

She  took  it,  closed  the  door,  and  turned  to 
her  husband,  merely  glancing  at  the  address. 
She  went  white. 

"Ashton,  this  is " 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked  quickly. 

"Will  you  open  it?" 

"But  why?" 

"It  is  from  Them 1" 

"Let  me  destroy  it  unopened,"  he  counselled. 

"No,  please.  Later,  we  will  destroy  it,  if 
need  be.    Open  it." 

He  tore  off  the  wrapping  and  disclosed  a 
small  box.  He  opened  that.  There  lay  a  rib- 
bon and  a  cross.  She  took  it  up  and  turned  it 
on  her  palm.    It  had  an  inscription: 

"To  a  Patriot,  Roberta  Trask,  for  dis- 
tinguished service  to  the  fatherland." 

It  bore  the  Emperor's  name. 

They  stood  there  silently,  with  the  hateful 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         191 

symbol  between  them.  It  seemed  to  Ashton 
that  he  could  not  bear  it — this  last  insult.  Ro- 
berta saw  it  in  his  eyes. 

"Don't  hate  it  too  much,  dear.  It  is  only 
the  same  old  symbol  of  suffering,  triumphant 
humanity — the  cross  of  sacrifice." 

"But  I  cannot,  Roberta " 

"Do  not  tiy.  This  goes  into  the  past  with 
our  memories,  we  shall  carry  none  of  them  into 
Paradise,  Ashton,"  she  said,  putting  the  dec- 
oration out  of  sight. 

"I  must  go  now,  if  I  am  to  arrange  our  leave. 
You  will  not  be  lonely?"  he  asked  her. 

"Oh,  no,  I  shall  have  much  to  do." 

"Goodbye,  for  a  little,"  he  said,  lingering  as 
a  lover  does. 

"No  more  goodbyes  after  to-morrow,"  she 
said,  and  too  late  saw  her  mistake.  "There  is 
no  goodbye  in  the  Golden  Age,  dear,"  she 
added  steadily. 


CHAPTER  n 

After  Sir  Ashton  left  her,  Lady  Bobs  re- 
turned to  her  desk.  There  were  many  letters 
to  be  written  to  many  friends  in  many  places 
and  lands.  She  wanted  these  farewells  said 
before  she  went  into  the  country. 

A  telephone  call  from  Cecily  Harrison  inter- 
rupted her  labours. 

"Bobs,  the  Duchess  and  I  came  in  together 
for  the  day,  and  we  want  you  for  lunch." 

"Delighted." 

"We  will  pick  you  up  at  one.  It  is  the 
Duchess's  party  and  I  do  not  know  where  she 
is  taking  us." 

"I  will  be  ready  at  one,  thanks." 

These  oldest  and  best  friends  deserved  the 
greatest  part  of  her  day,  if  they  wanted  it.  She 
would  not  see  them  again,  for  those  last  days 
she  meant  to  be  Ashton's  exclusively. 

She  dressed  with  great  care.  She  wanted 
these  two  to  remember  her  at  her  best.  She 
selected  a  frock  which  Cecily  especially  ad- 
mired. When  she  joined  them  in  the  motor 
the  Duchess  exclaimed: 

192 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         198 

"Roberta,  you  look  lovely!" 

"Thank  you,  dear  Duchess,"  she  smiled. 

"The  more  you  abuse  yourself,  and  stay  on 
in  this  oven,  the  handsomer  you  get !  It  wrecks 
my  beauty  in  a  day,"  laughed  the  Duchess  and 
they  both  joined  her,  for  she  was  famous  for 
her  ugliness. 

"It's  that  gown,"  remarked  Cecily,  "Bobs, 
I  wish  you'd  sell  me  that  dress." 

"You  shall  have  it." 

"Make  me  a  reasonable  price,  now,  because 
I'm  rather  short.  Why  is  it,  do  you  suppose, 
that  I  am  always  short?" 

"Because  your  extravagances  are  long,  no 
doubt,"  replied  the  Duchess. 

They  lunched  on  the  terrace,  at  one  of  the 
hotels.  Every  table  was  full,  and  there  was 
an  air  of  festivity,  and  many  uniforms  bright- 
ened the  picture.  The  fountain  sprayed  and 
dripped  refreshingly,  while  a  stringed  orches- 
tra played  softly.    The  food  was  of  the  best. 

"Life  is  rather  jolly,  isn't  it?"  said  Cecily, 
looking  about  her,  and  bowing  to  friends. 

"It's  the  j oiliest  thing  we  know — there's 
that  to  be  said,"  the  Duchess  answered. 

"Of  course.  Heaven  may  be  jollier  still,  but 
I've  always  been  suspicious  of  that  golden 


194         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

street  and  harp  picture,"  Cecily  continued 
gaily.  "So  dangerous  to  let  every  one  experi- 
ment on  the  harp — difficult  instrument,  you 
know." 

"Cecily,  what  an  awful  idea!  Heaven  a 
clamour  of  amateur  harpists!"  laughed  Ro- 
berta. 

"And  crowns!  You  know  how  few  people 
can  wear  a  tiara." 

"Stop  at  once,  Cecily,"  ordered  the  Duchess. 
"I  cannot  afford  to  lose  my  religion  at  this 
late  date.  But  I  promise  you  here  and  now, 
that  I  will  never  wear  one  of  their  ready-made 
crowns,  nor  touch  a  harp." 

"Bobs,  the  Duchess  is  a  fallen  angel.  We 
three  may  be  together  after  death,"  said  Cecily, 
hopefully. 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Roberta  with  sudden  ear- 
nestness. 

"Will  you  tell  me  how  we  got  on  this  lugu- 
brious subject?"  inquired  the  hostess. 

"Need  it  be  lugubrious?  Isn't  it  an  old  tra- 
dition to  surround  death  with  horror?"  asked 
Bobs.  "With  such  multitudes  clamouring  at 
the  door  of  Heaven  I  like  to  think  in  Cecily's 
phrase — maybe  it's  jollier  there." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         195 

"Heaven  is  an  old  tradition,  Bobs,  if  you're 
going  into  that,"  said  Cecily. 

"So  it  is,  and  none  of  us  believe  in  it " 

"I  do,"  said  the  Duchess  promptly. 

"Not  a  static  place  of  bliss,  Duchess,"  pro- 
tested Cecily. 

"Certainly  static.  I  hate  being  moved 
about.  Since  nobody  knows  anything  about 
the  place,  you  may  as  well  pick  out  the  kind  of 
Heaven  you  like,  and  believe  in  that." 

They  laughed  together  at  that. 

"What  kind  would  you  decide  on,  Bobs?" 
inquired  Cecily  gaily. 

"Mine  is  rather  hazy  in  my  mind.  Not  so 
unlike  this,  perhaps.  Going  on  with  your 
work,  developing,  loving,  growing  wiser." 

"Any  God  in  yours?" 

"Oh,  yes.  God  working,  developing,  loving, 
growing  wiser  through  me,  through  all  of  us." 

"What  an  ideal" 

"Where  do  you  go  from  here,  Cecily?" 
asked  the  Duchess  and  laughed  at  her  own 
slang. 

"My  faith  paints  a  place  rather  like  London, 
in  the  season,  only  with  a  pleasanter  climate." 

"No  God  in  yours,"  laughed  Roberta. 

"Oh,  yes.    Some  woman  in  a  modem  book — 


196         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

I  cannot  remember  the  name  of  it — defined  it 
perfectly.  She  said  Heaven  was  a  place  pre- 
sided over  by  a  distinguished  old  gentleman 
in  evening  dress,  who  had  the  right  people  to 
dine.    That's  where  I  belong." 

"That  will  do  for  Heaven.  Plain  blas- 
phemy!" sputtered  the  Duchess.  "Roberta, 
how  and  where  is  the  handsome  Irishman?" 

Roberta's  mouth  trembled,  and  she  made  an 
effort  to  hold  her  lips  fi"rm. 

"Larry?    It  is  difficult  to  say  where  Larry 

is " 

"I  must  get  him  down  to  the  country.    He 
always  makes  me  laugh,"  the  Duchess  said. 
"And  where  is  the  other  one?'* 
"Other  one?" 

"Insull  is  his  name,  isn't  it?" 
"Oh,  yes.    He  is  about,  I  think." 
"Why  don't  you  ask  me  about  my  beaux, 
Duchess?"  inquired  Cecily. 

"Because  your  beaux  don't  interest  me." 
"But  I  have  much  choicer  ones  than  Bobs." 
"That  white-livered  poet,  I  suppose.  No, 
you  are  a  natural  polygamist,  Cecily,  and  I 
cannot  bother  with  you,  but  Roberta's  flirta- 
tions irritate  me,  because  I  think  Ashton  Trask 
is  the  finest  man  I  know." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         197 

"So  do  I,"  said  Roberta  simply. 

"You  don't  act  like  it,"  bluntly. 

"I  am  just  crawling  out  from  under  that 
'natural  polygamist,'  but  I  hope  we  are  not 
turning  from  Heaven  to  monogamy!"  said 
Cecily. 

So  they  laughed  and  chaffed  each  other  in 
the  way  of  old  friends.  They  finished  luncheon 
and  planned  the  afternoon.  The  Duchess  had 
errands  and  they  were  going  back  to  the  coun- 
try for  the  night,  in  spite  of  Roberta's  urgent 
invitation  that  they  stay  with  her.  She  wished, 
she  said,  to  be  dropped  at  the  Downers'. 

"How  can  you  endure  that  girl,  Bobs?" 
demanded  Cecily. 

"Poor  Mildred— I  like  her." 

"Don't  discourage  Christian  charity,  Cecily, 
it  is  rare  enough  as  it  is,"  cautioned  the 
Duchess. 

When  the  motor  stopped  at  the  Downers', 
Roberta  bent  and  kissed  the  Duchess'  withered 
cheek. 

"It  has  been  perfect,  Duchess,"  she  said. 

"You  two  are  priceless  to  me.  You  give  my 
days  savour,"  the  old  woman  remarked  with 
rare  softness. 


198         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Roberta  caught  a  sob  back  into  her  throat, 
and  bent  to  Cecily. 

"Gk)odbye,  old  dear,'*  she  said. 

"When  are  you  going  to  the  country?" 
Cecily  asked,  kissing  her  fondly. 

"Ashton  and  I  are  off  to-morrow  for  a 
while." 

*'It  is  high  time,"  the  Duchess  remarked. 
"We  will  see  you  soon,  Roberta." 

^*Au  'voir,  dear  friends,"  she  said  softly,  and 
watched  the  motor  slide  away. 

Miss  Downer  was  reported  out,  so  Lady 
Trask  picked  up  a  hansom  and  made  a  few 
calls,  but  found  no  one  at  home.  She  turned 
back  to  her  own  door. 

"Miss  Mildred  Downer  is  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Lady  Trask.  She  has  been  waiting  a 
long  time,"  said  the  maid  who  admitted  her. 

Lady  Bobs  hurried  into  the  room  where 
Mildred  sat.  She  surprised  her  in  an  attitude 
of  complete  dejection.  At  sight  of  Roberta 
she  rose,  suddenly  flushed  and  embarrassed. 

"Well,  Mildred,"  said  Lady  Trask,  her  hand 
out. 

"Oh,  Lady  Bobs,"  exclaimed  the  girl.  Then, 
"You  must  wonder  how  I  dared  come  here, 
after  last  night." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         199 

"On  the  contrary.    I  went  to  see  you." 

"You  did?    Then  you  don't  hate  me?" 

"No." 

"I  have  not  slept  for  nights  because  I  hate 
myself  so." 

"You  must  not.  You  saw  this  thing  as  your 
duty.  No  one  can  think  that  it  was  pleasant 
for  you,  Mildred." 

The  girl  fought  for  composure. 

"What  you  said  last  night  has  upset  my  mind 
completely.  Why  are  we  all  trying  to  serve, 
by  destroying  each  other?  If  I  have  brought 
this  on  you  unjustly.  Lady  Bobs,  how  am  I 
to  live?" 

"If  the  whole  world  has  'its  mind  upset  com- 
pletely' there  is  some  hope  for  the  future, 
Mildred.  According  to  the  law  of  England, 
Larry  and  I  were  justly  condemned  as  en- 
emies, but  my  question  is,  isn't  there  a  larger 
law  of  patriotism?  Your  love  for  England, 
mine  for  Germany,  Larry's  for  Ireland,  Ted 
Carter's  for  America — surely  this  is  a  divine 
instinct,  it  must  be  utiUsed  in  some  bigger 
scheme  of  a  universe." 

"I  see  that,  I  want  to  work  for  that,"  the 
girl  said  earnestly.     "Oh,  it  is  sardonic  that 


"I'l 


200         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

you  should  point  the  way  to  me  when  I  have — 
have " 

"It  is  not  sardonic,  Mildred.  You  carry  on 
the  torch,  that's  all." 

"I  didn't  know  abuuc  Captain  Insull  until 
that  day  I  was  here.  You  thought  I  was 
iU " 

"Yes." 

"I  want  you  to  know  that  I  never  suspected 
you,  nor  tried  to  impugn  your  loyalty." 

'I'm  sure  of  it." 

'I've  always  cared  'bout  you  so  much,"  she 
said  haltingly. 

"I  am  glad  of  that.  I  have  been  fond  of 
you,  too." 

"Oh,  I  cannot  bear  it  for  you  to  treat  me 
like  this!"  she  burst  out. 

"My  dear,  how  should  I  treat  you?  You 
did  an  unpleasant  duty,  so  did  I.  I  respect 
you  for  it.    Is  that  surprising?" 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  hating  me," 
Mildred  sobbed. 

"It  is  unfitting  for  the  dead  to  bear  ran- 
cour," she  said  simply. 

Mildred  lifted  a  swollen  face  to  her. 

"There  is  that,  too " 

"Yes,  there  is  that,  too.  .  .  ." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         201 

"I  thought  I  should  die  this  morning,  at 

dawn,  when  I  knew  he "  Mildred  could  not 

go  on. 

"No,  no.  Think  rather  of  the  way  he  met 
his  fate — smiling,  I  promise  you.  Flinging 
his  soul  forth,  proudly,  without  a  cry." 

"I  suppose  you  will  not  beheve  this,  but  I 
loved  him.  I  know,  now,  why  I  wanted  him 
punished.  It  was  because  I  was  humiliated 
that  he  did  not  want  my  love.  Oh,  Lady  Bobs, 
now  you  will  despise  me!" 

Lady  Bobs  put  her  arm  across  Mildred's 
shoulders. 

"No,  I  do  not  despise  you.  I  know  how 
alike  we  all  are,  how  far  from  civilised;  how 
bound  by  old  traditions  that  a  woman  must  not 
offer  her  best  gift.  Some  day  surely,  it  must 
be  otherwise,  if  the  race  is  to  chmb.  .  .  ." 

"I  should  have  known  that  he  could  not  care 
for  me,"  Mildred  went  on.  "I'm  so  ugly  and 
stupid,  and  he  was  so  handsome,  so  happy. 
*Son  of  the  morning'  I  used  to  call  him  to  my- 
self. When  he  kissed  me  I  thought  I  should 
faint  with  happiness " 

Lady  Trask  nodded. 

"Afterward,  when  I  knew  he  meant  nothing- 
by  it,  that  he  was  just  playing  with  me,  some- 


202         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

thing  inside  me  went  mad.  I  thought  I  hated 
him.  I  thought  I  wanted  to  serve  England, 
but  last  night  I  knew  the  real  truth.  I  wanted 
to  be  revenged  on  him,  because  he  had  hurt  me 
so.    I  loved  him.    I  loved  him !    As  dawn  came 

on,  I "  she  choked  and  stopped,  sobbing 

hysterically. 

Lady  Trask's  eyes  were  full  of  pity. 

"Do  you  think  I  ought  to  go  and  tell  Gen- 
eral Stoten  that  I  killed  Larry  out  of  re- 
venge?" 

"That  would  not  save  Larry,  Mildred.  I 
think  your  punishment  will  come  without  Gen- 
eral Stoten's  help  or  direction." 

"But  I've  always  thought  I  was  a  decent 
person,  with  standards,  and  now  I  find  I'm 
just  a  rotter!" 

"I  know.  These  instincts  spring  up  to 
shame  us,  in  crises.  We  never  know  they  are 
a  part  of  us  even,  until  all  at  once  they  domi- 
nate us.  It  must  be  that  you  and  I,  and  our 
kind,  are  second  rate." 

"Not  you.  Lady  Bobs." 

"Yes,  I  am  thoroughly  second  rate.  I  know 
it,  and  I  pay  the  price  willingly." 

"If  I  could  only  pay  for  you." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         20* 

"The  ill  ye  do,  by  two  and  two, 
Ye  pay  for,  one  by  one," 

quoted  Lady  Bobs.  "Never  fear,  Mildred, 
you  will  pay,"  she  added. 

Mildred  rose  to  go. 

"You  have  been  fair  to  me,  and  very  kind. 
I  wish  you  could  say  as  much  for  me.  I'm  glad 
I've  known  you,"  she  said  earnestly. 

"Thank  you,  Mildred.    Good  luck.'* 

They  clasped  hands  firmly,  like  two  com- 
rades. Then  with  a  groan  Mildred  turned  and 
hurried  out  of  the  room.  She  did  not  see  Sir 
Ashton,  who  passed  her.  She  fled  out  the  door 
and  away,  like  one  pursued  by  furies.  Sir 
Ashton  went  to  Roberta  quickly. 

"Did  Mildred  Downer  presimie  to  come  to 
this  house?"  he  said  sternly. 

"She  is  very  unhappy,  Ashton." 

"She  ought  to  be  ""neaking  little  inform- 
er!" 

"Let  us  be  a  little  kind  in  judging  her,  dear." 

He  kissed  her,  his  eyes  dim. 

"We  can  go  to-morrow,  at  noon,  if  you  like." 

"I  do  like,"  she  assured  him. 

She  sat  late  that  night  finishing  up  the  many 
things  there  were  to  be  done.    "Balancing  her 


204         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

book,"  as  she  phrased  it  to  herself.  At  mid- 
night her  husband  came  to  her  door. 

*'I  saw  your  light  burning.  Can  you  not 
leave  these  duties,  whatever  they  are?  Surely 
you  should  have  some  rest." 

"To-morrow,  dear,  I  shall  shed  my  past 
like  a  cocoon.    I  want  to  start  off  a  new  being." 

His  hands  rested  on  her  shoulders,  and  she 
felt  them  tremble. 

"Sit  here,  and  read,  if  you  cannot  sleep," 
she  suggested. 

He  sat  down  and  tried  to  obey.  At  least  he 
sat  with  her,  he  kept  her  in  his  sight. 

The  morning  found  her  still  resolutely  her- 
self. The  moment  came  to  take  leave  of  this 
home  she  had  come  to,  fifteen  years  before,  as 
a  bride.  She  sent  Ashton  off  on  some  errand, 
that  she  might  say  her  farewells  alone. 

She  walked  through  all  the  familiar  rooms, 
lingering  now  and  then  to  touch  some  well 
loved  object.  Into  Ashton's  rooms  she  went 
with  a  heart  that  threatened  to  suffocate  her. 
She  sat  down,  impulsively,  at  his  desk,  and 
wrote  him  a  letter.  She  tucked  it  away  where 
some  day,  afterward,  he  might  come  upon  it, 
and  find  comfort. 

In  her  own  rooms  she  lingered.    Her  piano. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         205 

her  books,  all  the  intimacies  of  herself,  held 
out  hands  to  her.  The  sun  streamed  in,  a  flood 
of  light.  It  was  cheery,  and  real.  No  atmos- 
phere of  parting,  this.  Perhaps  some  day 
soon,  she  might  slip  back,  on  such  a  broad  sun- 
beam, to  visit  her  old  belongings. 

"The  motor  is  here.  Shall  we  go.  Beloved?" 
Ashton  asked  her,  standing  at  her  door,  and 
sensing  the  anguish  of  the  moment. 

She  smiled,  and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"Yes,  let  us  go.  No  memories,  no  regrets. 
We  go  without  impedimenta  to  find  our 
Golden  Age." 

He  smiled,  bravely,  too,  and  hand  in  hand 
they  went  down-stairs,  and  out  of  the  door  of 
their  home. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  moment  they  left  London  a  change 
came  over  Roberta.  She  was  keen,  interested, 
alive.  Nothing  on  the  road  escaped  her.  She 
approved  the  day,  which  Ashton  thought  hot; 
she  quoted  poetry  about  the  English  fields,  she 
repeated  to  him  some  of  Cecily's  absurdities. 
She  was  as  light  hearted  as  a  girl  on  a  holiday, 
and  while  Ashton  marvelled,  he  delighted  in 
her.  How  her  beauty  filled  the  eye,  and  satis- 
fied it,  with  its  rich  maturity ! 

"Yes,  Ashton?"  she  questioned,  aware  of  his 
gaze. 

"I'm  wondering  how  you  can  be  more  beau- 
tiful than  when  I  married  you." 

"What  a  pleasant  thing  to  say." 

"  'Pleasant'  is  a  homely  adjective,"  he  pro- 
tested. 

"Vanity  is  a  homely  vice.  Of  course,  you 
are  glad  to  be  told  you  grow  old  gracefully, 
but  all  the  time  you  think  back  to  your  radiant 
youth,  and  you  are  not  satisfied  with  'grace- 
fully.' " 

"Strange.     IVe  no  regrets  for  my  youth. 

206 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         207 

"Grow  old  along  with  me, 
The  best  is  yet  to  be, 
The  last  for  which  the  first  was  made," 

he  said,  and  turned  away  quickly  at  the  thought 
that  followed  it. 

"That  is  true  of  you,  Ashton,  as  it  is  of  few 
people.  Some  of  us  cannot  risk  old  age — it 
is  too  trying." 

"Think  of  the  penalty  of  eternal  youth,"  he 
suggested. 

She  recalled  Ivan's  phrase,  "I  protect  my 
youth,  where  other  people  squander  theirs." 
She  frowned,  and  turned  him  out  of  her  mind. 

June  was  the  loveliest  month  of  all  at  Trask 
Hall.  The  rose  gardens  were  an  ecstacy  of 
colour  and  scent.  A  rose-covered  pergola 
fairly  sagged  with  bloom,  and  a  trellis  which 
climbed  to  Lady  Trasks'  window  sent  roses 
creeping  over  the  sill.  She  called  Ashton's 
attention  to  it. 

"Isn't  that  charming?  It  is  like  a  votive 
offering  from  the  good  god  Pan,"  she  said. 

"Take  his  offering,  but  do  not  listen  to  his 
piping,  Roberta,"  he  warned  her. 

She  slipped  her  hand  through  his  arm,  and 
answered  in  the  same  spirit. 


208         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I  cannot  promise.  Some  day,  if  you  should 
find  me  gone,  you  will  know  that  I  have  an- 
swered his  call." 

"Where  would  he  lead  you,  I  wonder?" 

"Back  into  the  heart  of  nature." 

"Then  I  should  find  you  in  sun,  and  wind 
and  rain,"  he  mused. 

"Forever  and  ever." 

So  they  spoke  of  their  coming  ordeal,  but 
without  bitterness  or  despair.  There  were  no 
secrets  or  evasions  between  them  now.  There 
was  truth  and  a  new  oneness,  as  if  the  flesh  had 
actually  fallen  away,  and  they  stood  together, 
disembodied  spirits. 

The  first  two  days  were  perfect  with  sun 
and  soft  airs.  They  spent  them  in  the  open, 
and  most  of  the  nights,  too,  for  the  moon  rode 
the  sky  in  full  splendour. 

Roberta's  determination  was  strong  to  make 
these  days  a  painless  memory  to  Ash  ton.  But 
one  doubt  was  ever  in  her  mind,  was  it  his 
right  to  hear  from  her  lips  the  whole  story  of 
her  short-lived  passion  for  Lord  Kendrick? 
Was  she  letting  herself  off*  half  the  price  she 
was  to  pay,  by  not  telling  him? 

It  seemed  to  her  that  Ashton  had  risen  to 
heights  of  sacrifice  during  this  ordeal.    Never 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         20S 

once  did  she  forget  how  her  actions  had  out- 
raged all  his  standards  of  high  honour,  but  in 
spite  of  that,  his  pity  and  his  love  had  con- 
quered every  other  emotion.  She  knew  him 
now,  for  the  finest  type  of  manhood  which  his 
race  produces.  She  had  failed  him  all  through 
their  life  together.  How  could  she  have  missed 
seeing  that  he  was  all  the  things  she  had  sought 
in  other  men,  and  more  ? 

She  saw  now,  in  the  light  of  their  present, 
what  she  had  made  them  both  lose.  He  had 
known  all  the  while  that  these  possibilities  of 
happiness  lay  in  their  grasp,  and  he  had  waited 
for  the  moment  when  she  should  give  herself 
to  him,  wholly.  Through  her  blindness  he  was 
never  to  know  the  realisation  of  that  dream  ex- 
cept for  these  few  days.  Should  she  poison  the 
memory  of  them  by  making  him  father  con- 
fessor for  all  her  sins? 

Peace  came  to  her  finally  in  the  realisation 
that  she  had  no  right  to  ease  her  own  burden 
of  guilt  by  pouring  it  on  to  him.  She  deter- 
mined, however,  to  write  the  story  from  its  be- 
ginning. To  tell  the  ugly  truth  about  the 
affair  with  Kendrick,  to  spare  herself  nothing. 
She  would  leave  this  confession  for  him,  and 
if  he  cared  to  read  it,  then,  he  had  a  choice. 


t 


i 


210         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"What  is  it  you  are  always  writing  on?"  he 
asked  finally,  coming  upon  her  repeatedly  at 
this  task. 

She  hesitated  a  second  before  she  repUed. 

"It  is  a  story  which  I  have  no  courage  to  tell 
you  now,  which  I  think  it  is  your  right  to 
know." 

"You  mean  the  story  of — you?" 

"Yes,  I  mean  the  story  of  me." 

"You  intend  to  bequeath  it  to  me?" 

"Yes.    A  sorry  bequest,  my  dear." 

"Is  it  nearly  finished?" 

"Yes." 

He  came  to  her  side. 

"May  I  have  it  now?" 

A  look  of  terror  came  into  her  eyes. 

"Must  you  read  it  now?"  she  asked  him. 

"May  I  have  it?" 

"It  is  yours.  Ash  ton." 

He  bent  to  take  it  from  her,  kissed  her  hair 
as  he  straightened  up,  and  then  with  strong 
fingers,  he  tore  the  closely  written  sheets  into 
bits.  He  ikid  it  on  her  hearth,  and  set  a 
match  to  them. 

She  watched  him  silently.  All  at  once  she 
put  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  sobs  shook  her. 
She  had  not  shed  a  tear  before.    But  this  fine 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         211 

gesture,  with  which  Ashton  swept  the  dross  of 
her  on  to  a  sacrificial  pyre,  punished  her 
cruelly. 

He  came  and  stood  above  her. 

"So,  dear,  that  is  our  past.  Our  present  has 
no  memories.  Nothing  shall  spoil  these  days, 
nothing." 

She  took  his  hand  and  laid  her  cheek  against 
it. 

"If  you  knew  what  your  love  meant  to  me  I 
How  I  chng  to  your  tenderness,  how  I  count 
on  your  understanding." 

"What  else  is  love,  but  these  things,  my  Ro- 
berta?" 

"I've  stumbled  along  so  many  roads,  and 
hurt  so  many  people,  to  find  out  what  love  is," 
she  said. 

"I  wish  you  might  know "  he  began  and 

could  not  finish. 

"I  do,"  she  answered  him.  She  drew  his 
face  down  to  her  and  kissed  him.  "Oh,  dearest, 
I've  blundered  so,  and  played  with  sacred  fire. 
But  deep  in  me  I  must  have  known  how  safe 
I  was  in  your  heart — ^that  the  time  was  to  be, 
when  I  should  know  that  my  love  was  yours." 

She  felt  his  tears  on  her  cheek,  the  beating 
of  his  heart,  but  there  was  no  need  of  words. 


212         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

A  great  peace  had  come  upon  them,  like  the 
one  "which  passeth  understanding." 

From  that  time  on  there  was  no  flaw  in  all 
their  days.  They  were  lovers  on  a  transcendent 
honeymoon.  Their  talk  ranged  the  universe. 
They  rode,  they  motored,  they  walked,  they 
gardened,  with  Hughie  at  heel,  like  a  faithful 
puppy.  There  came  a  day  of  rain.  Bobs  pro- 
posed slickers  and  a  cross-country  tramp. 
They  swung  along  deserted  country  roads  for 
hours,  hand  in  hand,  with  the  rain  beating  in 
their  faces.  Later  he  sat  and  smoked  while  she 
played  to  him.  They  read  together,  discussed, 
disagreed,  laughed  and  were  exultantly  happy. 

"Such  days  as  these  are  vouchsafed  to  few 
humans.  Beloved,"  he  said  to  her. 

"Whom  the  gods  love "  she  sighed. 

"Happiness  is  not  destroyed.  It  is  as  im- 
mortal as  the  human  spirit,"  he  said  earnestly. 

"Its  pleasures  and  pains  are  boundless, 
And  endless  its  wants  and  wealth," 

she  quoted,  smiling. 

"Who  said  that?" 

"Tagore." 

"I  found  'The  Gardener'  beside  your  pillow 
this  morning." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         213 

"It's  like  my  Bible  these  days.  He  and  his 
race  are  so  sure  of  the  things  of  the  spirit.  .  .  . 
*0,  Great  Beyond,  O,  the  keen  call  of  thy 
flute.'  It  has  the  eternal  yearning  of  the 
human  race  to  know.  How  do  you  suppose 
the  immortal  hope  was  planted  in  all  our 
hearts?" 

"We  must  presuppose  a  plan.  And  why 
not?  If  the  planets  move  in  courses,  if  the 
earth  turns  on  an  axis?  What  sort  of  an  or- 
dered universe,  if  death  by  accident,  by  war, 
by  disease  can  cut  short  unfulfilled  lives  ?  The 
youth  of  the  whole  world  swept  on  to  the  scrap 
heap,  by  this  accident  of  war?  No,  they  must 
go  on.    They  must  finish  their  work." 

"Yes,  that's  it.  We  must, finish  our  work,'* 
she  repeated  thoughtfully.  "I  shall  think  of 
you  working  here,  you  will  think  of  me  work- 
ing on — somewhere  else.     Perhaps  when  you 

come,  I  shall  know "  but  he  interrupted 

her  passionately. 

"Not  now,  dear  heart  of  me.  The  spirit 
must  comfort  me  later,  but  not  now,  while  I 
can  hold  you,  while  I  can  kiss  your  brow  and 
eyes  and  lips " 

"Oh,  my  lover,  take  me  now,  all  of  me  and 
find  me  sweet,  if  you  can,  but  don't  forget. 


214         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

later,  that  the  very  essence  of  me  is  yours."  she 
answered  him  with  equal  passion. 

He  spoke  to  her  one  day  of  their  friends. 

"I  am  very  selfish.  Shall  we  have  some  peo- 
ple here?    Cecily  perhaps?" 

"No.    These  days  belong  to  us." 

As  the  hours  flew  by  and  the  time  grew  short, 
they  were  more  and  more  reluctant  to  be  apart. 
Sleep  grew  less  possible  for  them  both. 

"Let  us  saddle  our  horses  and  ride  through 
the  dawn,"  she  suggested,  their  last  day  but 
one. 

They  dressed  hurriedly,  and  she  managed 
some  coffee,  while  he  struggled  with  the  sad- 
dles. She  carried  the  coffee  pot  to  the  stables, 
and  they  whispered  and  laughed  over  it,  and 
were  happy.  Then  they  mounted  and  rode 
off,  Roberta  in  the  lead. 

"We'll  ride  to  the  rim  of  the  world  where  the 
sun  comes  up,"  she  called. 

The  horses  ran  side  by  side  in  the  fresh  air 
of  the  new  day.  It  was  a  world  empty  save 
for  them,  a  day  fashioned  for  their  pleasuring. 
They  called  a  word  now  and  then,  exchanged  a 
smile,  or  a  caress  of  the  eyes.  Pounding  along, 
blood  coursing  freely,  no  thought  of  any  mo- 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         215 

ment  but  the  present  one  came  to  taunt  them. 
The  rays  sprayed  over  the  horizon  line. 

"It  will  beat  us!"  cried  Roberta,  urging  her 
horse.  She  was  off  at  a  gallop,  Ashton  at  her 
heels. 

As  the  sun-ball  shot  up  over  the  world's  rim 
she  galloped  faster. 

"You're  too  late,  my  love,"  called  Ashton. 

"Not  yet,"  she  answered,  and  fled  on. 

But  when  the  golden  circumference  was  com- 
plete against  the  sky,  she  let  Ashton  come 
abreast. 

"I  almost  made  it,"  she  boasted. 

"So  you  did,"  he  smiled.  "What  is  a  million 
miles?'* 

She  laughed  and  they  turned  their  horses 
to  ride  back, 

"Doesn't  this  air  taste  like  pleasant  fruit?" 
she  asked  him. 

"Like  trees  of  frankincense,"  he  nodded. 

"Is  the  air  always  so  sweet  in  the  Gk)lden 
Age?"  she  inquired. 

"Always." 

"Are  the  days  always  so  fxill  of  good  gifts 
in  the  Golden  Age?" 

"Always." 

"And  love  so  abounding?" 


216         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"And  love  so  abounding." 

So,  with  courage,  with  hope  and  with  com- 
posure, they  marched  over  the  brow  of  the  day 
before  the  end. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Hugh  IE  and  old  Mallory  were  at  work  in 
the  garden.  The  sun  shone  and  the  air  was 
heavy  with  sweetness.  Lady  Bobs  strolled  out 
aimlessly,  waiting  for  Ashton,  and  Hughie 
trotted  to  meet  her. 

"Lady  dig?"  he  inquired. 

"No,  Hughie,  not  to-day,"  she  smiled. 

There  was  something  about  the  smile  that 
made  Hughie  feel  she  needed  comfort.  He 
slipped  his  fat,  earth-covered  hand  into  hers, 
and  she  clung  to  it. 

Ashton  came  in  search  of  her  presently.  He 
kept  in  touch  with  his  office  by  telephone,  and 
every  day  Roberta  dreaded  a  summons  for 
him. 

"All  right,  lover?"  she  asked  him. 

"All  right,"  he  reassured  her.  "Well, 
Hughie,  are  you  looking  after  my  lady  for 
me?" 

''My  lady!"  said  Hughie  stoutly. 

"Wrong,  Hughie.  I  share  her  with  no 
man." 

217 


218         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"Dear,  I  wish  I  had  given  you  a  son,"  Bobs 
said  wistfully. 

He  made  no  reply  save  to  draw  her  hand 
through  his  ann.  So  escorted  on  either  hand, 
she  walked  through  old  Mallory's  domain. 
Hughie  was  lured  away  by  a  golden  butterfly 
which  he  pursued  with  invitations : 

"Wait,  buttyfy.    Wait  for  Hughie." 

"There  go  I,  Ashton,  with  Hughie  in  pur- 
suit. You  remember  I  said  I  would  slip  my 
past  like  a  cocoon  and  come  here  as  free  as  a 
butterfly?  I  had  no  idea  that  it  could  really 
be  done.  But  it  has  been.  What  a  happy, 
happy  day  mine  has  been!" 

"Has  it.  Beloved?  Have  I  filled  your  heart 
these  days?" 

"To  the  brim,  my  husband." 

"My  whole  life  has  been  lived  in  these  brief 
days,"  he  said  earnestly. 

A  taxi  drove  up  to  the  house,  and  some  one 
stepped  out  of  it. 

"Visitors?  Oh,  let  us  run,  Ashton,"  Bobs 
said,  for  they  were  in  full  view  of  the  house. 

"Too  late.    He  has  seen  us " 

The  man  was  approaching  them,  at  the  mo- 
ment. 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         219 

"It  is "  Ashton  broke  off  with  an  angry 

exclamation. 

Roberta  looked,  and  stood  perfectly  still. 
The  man  came  on,  until  he  was  within  a  few 
feet  of  them.  He  was  so  changed  that  he  was 
scarcely  recognisable. 

"By  what  right  do  you  intrude  here,  may  I 
ask?"  Ashton  demanded. 

"By  no  right  at  all,  except  that  I  am  a  man 
in  extremity,  come  to  beg  Lady  Trask  for  one 
word "  began  Ivan  InsuU. 

"Oh,  your  poor  youth!"  exclaimed  Roberta, 
involuntarily. 

"Do  you  wish  to  speak  to  this  man?"  Ashton 
asked  her. 

"Yes,  dear.  We  cannot  turn  him  away," 
she  replied. 

Ashton  bowed  and  started  to  leave  them,  but 
she  halted  him. 

"Stay  with  us,  please,  Ashton." 

He  made  a  gesture  of  protest,  but  InsuU 
added  his  request  that  he  stay.  So  when  Ro- 
berta led  the  way  to  a  summer  house  at  the 
edge  of  the  garden,  the  two  men  followed  her 
silently. 

Roberta  thought  to  herself  that  here  was  the 
only  soul  in  all  the  net  that  entangled  them. 


220         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

about  whom  she  had  let  herself  feel  bitterly. 
She  had  driven  all  memory  of  the  handsome, 
singing  big  boy  out  of  her  mind  forever,  and 
here  he  was,  scarred  and  aged  with  his  ordeal, 
come  to  sue  for  her  pity. 

She  looked  at  Ashton,  but  his  face  was  a 
white  mask,  set  and  graven.  She  sat  down  on 
a  bench  in  the  summer  house,  and  indicated 
chairs  for  the  other  two.  Ivan  began  to  speak 
at  once.  He  stood  before  her  and  his  words 
rained  down  upon  her. 

"I  have  no  right  to  come  here,  I  know  that. 
But  I  remembered  how  kind  you  were  to  peo- 
ple, and  I  thought — I  hoped "  he  broke  off, 

and  then  began  again.  "I  could  not  let  you 
go  without  saying  one  word  in  defence  of  my- 
self  " 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  Captain  InsuU,  but 
Lady  Trask  has  borne  a  good  deal  from  you. 
I  think  she  might  be  spared  your  defence,  don't 
you?"  Ashton  asked  coldly. 

"What  is  it  you  want  to  tell  me?"  Roberta 
asked  him. 

"How  I  love  you,  and  what  the  Hell  of  this 
week  has  meant  to  me  I"  the  boy  burst  out 
impetuously. 

"Roberta,  it  is  folly  to  let  this  go  on.    We 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         221 

are  not  interested  in  your  emotions "  Ash- 
ton  broke  in. 

"Why  not?  I  was  serving  you,"  Insull 
cried. 

"Serving  me?" 

"Certainly.  I  was  doing  the  dirty  business 
of  your  country,  wasn't  I?" 

"Ashton,  let  Captain  Insull  say  what  he 
has  come  to  say,  please,"  Roberta  begged  him. 

"When  I  was  put  on  your  case,  Lady  Trask, 
I  knew  nothing  about  you.  I  had  only  seen 
you  once.  I  hated  the  job  but  I  had  no  choice. 
I  was  ordered  to  shadow  you  and  get  evidence." 

"Yes?"  Roberta  said,  anxious  to  help  him. 

"I  made  myself  agreeable  at  first  to  try  to 
make  you  like  me,  so  you  would  let  me  be  with 
you.  You  were  heavenly  kind,  and  I  felt 
surer  every  day  that  it  was  a  false  scent,  that 
you  were  all  right.  But  when  I  got  my  first 
actual  evidence,  that  paper  that  I  saw  passed 
between  you  and  Captain  O 'Toole,  in  Lady 

Harrison's  garden "  he  stopped  and  wiped 

his  forehead,  breathing  deeply. 

"Yes,  I  remember." 

"I  saw  that  message  later.  I  went  into  your 
room  at  Lady  Harrison's,  and  saw  it." 

She  nodded,  frowning. 


222         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

"I  held  up  the  report  for  a  week,  because  I 
discovered  that  I  loved  you  more  than  anything 
in  this  world " 

"This  is  impertinence  I"  cried  Ashton. 

"My  God,  aren't  we  past  impertinence?  She 
and  you  and  I  in  the  shadow  of  death?  I  can't 
help  it  if  she  is  your  wife.  I  love  her  with 
every  beat  of  my  heart,  and  I  have  betrayed 
her " 

"Ivan,  you  gave  this  evidence  against  me 
finaUy." 

"My  first  thought  was  that  I  would  resign, 
go  away,  say  there  was  no  evidence.  Then  I 
had  a  call  from  heaoquarters,  and  I  found  that 
the  suspicion  there  was  almost  a  certainty.  If 
I  got  out,  they  would  put  some  one  else  in  my 
place,  some  one  who  might  be  brutal,  who 
might  make  it  harder " 

"So  you  stayed  on,  trying  to  help  me?" 

"Yes.  I  knew  from  that  moment  where  we 
were  all  going.  I  looked  into  the  pit  of  de- 
struction every  minute,  night  and  day " 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  Lady  Trask?  Why 
did  you  trade  on  her  friendship?"  Ashton 
asked. 

"He  did  tell  me  in  the  end,  Ashton,  only  I 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         223 

would  not  see.  He  begged  me  to  run  away 
just  befcJre  they  arrested  me.    I  refused." 

"How  could  I  tell  her?  The  evidence  against 
O'Toole  was  mounting  every  minute.  There 
was  no  chance  for  her.  Even  if  she  went  to 
America,  as  I  urged  her  to  do,  she  would  not 
have  escaped "  he  groaned. 

"I  did  not  want  to  escape,"  she  said. 

"You  say  you  love  her,  yet  you  hounded 
her  to  her  death !"  Ashton  challenged  him. 

"I  was  under  British  orders.  Sir  Ashton,  I 
had  no  choice  in  the  matter!"  InsuU  answered. 

Ashton  turned  away  and  looked  with  unsee- 
ing eyes  over  the  garden  without.  What  God 
of  Fury  and  Unreason  twitched  the  strings 
which  made  them  all  dance  in  these  torturing 
days? 

"Lady  Trask,  I  wanted  you  to  know,  that 
any  suffering  which  has  come  to  you  through 
me,  has  been  nothing  to  the  suffering  I  have 
brought  upon  myself.  What  you  said,  that 
night,  about  our  motive  of  service  being  true, 
no  matter  what  treachery  seemed  to  result,  has 
comforted  me  a  little.  It  was  so  fair.  I 
thought  that  maybe,  if  you  believed  that,  you 
might  have  mercy  for  me  in  your  heart." 


224         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

She  caught  her  breath  in  a  quick  stab  of 
pain. 

"I  know  that  you  do  not  care  anything  about 
me,  that  you  never  did.  I  knew  those  last  days 
what  you  were  going  through,  and  how  it 
helped  you  to  play  with  me,  and  laugh  at  my 
foolishness " 

"Yes,  it  did  help  me.  I'm  afraid  I  never 
thought  what  it  was  doing  to  you,"  she  admit- 
ted. 

"I  don't  count  I  Why,  I'd  grind  myself  up 
in  little  pieces,  if  it  would  help  you.  I  shall 
not  pay  less.  Lady  Trask,  for  my  duty  than 
you  pay,"  he  added  solemnly. 

Sir  Ashton  turned  swiftly. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that? 

"I  mean  that  life  isn't  the  greatest  thing  you 
can  give  up.    You  know  that." 

Roberta  went  to  Ivan  and  laid  her  hand  on 
his  arm. 

"Ivan,  let  there  be  no  talk  of  that,"  she  said 
firmly.  "I  tried  to  say  at  the  trial,  that  each 
of  us  had  done  his  best  for  what  we  believe  in. 
I  found  it  hardest  to  forgive  you,  Ivan,  be- 
cause I  had  made  you  so  intimate  a  friend. 
But  I  see  now  that  you  have  paid  the  ultimate 
price  with  the  rest  of  us." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         225 

"I  have — ^by  God — I  have,"  he  cried. 

"I  know  one  thing  surely,  that  our  lives, 
yours  and  Larry's  and  mine,  cannot  be  waste. 
They  must  fulfil  some  purpose.  Stay  on,  and 
make  yours  count  here,  Ivan." 

"I  cannot.    Let  me  go  with  you,"  he  begged. 

"No — a  thousand  times  nol  Ashton  and 
you  have  to  help  with  the  mighty  task  of  teach- 
ing the  new  world  a  better  way  to  use  its  crea- 
tures than  in  destroying  each  other." 

"You're  taking  away  my  hope  of  peace,'* 
he  said  brokenly. 

"I  have  given  you  a  new  one." 

"You  have  been  all  that  I  knew  you  to  be." 

She  offered  him  her  hand. 

"I  am  glad  you  came,  Ivan.  I  have  many 
things  to  thank  you  for." 

He  almost  crushed  the  hand  he  held. 

"Thank  you " 

"Good  luck,  Ivan.  Courage,  my  friend. 
That  is  what  the  world  needs  now." 

He  tried  to  smile,  he  pressed  her  hand  again, 
bowed  to  Sir  Ashton  and  went  quickly  away. 

"Why  did  he  come  here  to  spoil  our  perfect 
day?"  Ashton  protested. 

"Don't  begrudge  him  his  hour,  dearest.  I 
am  truly  glad  he  came.    I  want  to  go  on  with 


226         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

my  heart  sponged  clean  of  hate  and  misunder- 
standing. How  we  are  all  caught  in  'the 
clutch  of  circumstance,' "  she  added  with  a 
sigh. 

He  put  his  arms  about  her. 

"He  has  made  you  sad." 

"Do  the  scales  ever  balance,  do  you  think? 
The  good  you  may  have  done,  ever  balance 
the  harm?" 

"Who  knows.  Beloved?" 

"What  a  pity  that  the  reckoning  comes  at 
the  end." 

There  was  a  silence,  which  he  broke  with  his 
question. 

"Dear,  if  I  asked  you  what  he  asked  you, 
would  you  make  me  the  same  answer?" 

"You  mean?"  she  said,  lifting  her  face  to 
look  at  him. 

"Let  me  go,  when  you  go." 

"Ashton!" 

She  clung  to  him  with  sudden  strength,  she 
kissed  him  with  deep  feeling. 

"Best  beloved, — ^my  dearest!"  she  cried  to 
him  brokenly. 

"I  may  come?"  he  asked  softly. 

"No— no— no." 

"But  you  want  me." 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         227 

"As  you  want  me  to  stay!  But  your  work 
is  here.  England  needs  you  as  never  before. 
We  cannot  both  be  traitor  to  her,  dear." 

"Oh,  let  me  come,"  he  pleaded. 

"Must  I  ask  a  promise  of  you,  Ashton?" 

"Yes,  and  help  me  keep  it!" 

"Promise  me  that  you  will  finish  your  work 
here,"  she  said  solemnly.  "Dearest^  to  comfort 
me,"  she  begged  when  he  was  silent. 

"I  promise  I  will  finish  my  work  here,"  he 
said  after  her. 

She  freed  herself  from  his  arms,  with  a 
sigh. 

"Now,  what  shall  we  do  with  this  day?"  she 
asked  him. 

"What  you  will,"  he  answered. 

They  determined  on  a  horse-back  journey 
to  some  favourite  woods,  with  luncheon  in 
knapsacks.  They  did  not  manage  to  recapture 
the  same  care-free  spirit  which  had  been  theirs 
before  Ivan  Insull's  visit,  but  they  found  help 
for  the  ache  he  had  left  with  them,  in  the 
philosophy  of  trees,  in  the  eternal  fitness  of 
bird  songs,  and  silence. 

It  was  a  day  full  of  silent  communion.  They 
came  back  from  it,  refreshed  and  renewed  in 
spirit,  just  as  the  sun  flooded  the  earth  with  a 


228         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

largesse  of  colour  and  of  glory.  They  dined 
under  the  sky,  and  went  into  the  moon-swept 
garden  afterward. 

"Moon,  ah,  moon,  of  my  delight "  began 

Roberta,  but  the  frantic  clutch  of  his  fingers 
stopped  her.  In  her  own  heart  she  finished  the 
couplet : 

**How  often  in  this  same  garden, 
Look  for  me  in  vain " 

They  made  the  rounds  of  all  the  paths,  hand 
in  hand.  They  sat  in  the  midst  of  the  calm 
beauty,  speaking  now  and  then,  but  knowing 
a  harmony  which  made  words  but  clumsy  coun- 
ters. It  was  long  after  midnight  when  they 
went  into  the  house.  Only  once  did  they  refer 
to  the  morrow. 

"To-morrow  we  decide — the  way?"  he  forced 
himself  to  ask  her. 

"Yes,  lover,  to-morrow.'* 

They  made  no  pretence  of  sleep.  In  the 
early  morning  he  spoke  gently : 

"Dearest?" 

She  made  no  answer,  hoping  that  he  would 
rest.  He  rose  and  quietly  dressed  and  went 
out.     She  knew  that  he  sought  strength  for 


The  Clutch  of  Circumstance         229 

this  day.  She  smiled.  It  was  as  she  would 
have  it. 

She  lay  her  cheek  for  a  little  in  the  nest  his 
cheek  had  made  in  his  pillow.  Then  close 
to  her  heart,  where  the  sight  of  it  might  not 
offend  her  beloved's  eyes,  she  pinned  the  little 
cross.  She  wrote  a  line  across  the  page,  in  a 
book  at  her  bedside,  and  she  laid  it  open  for 
him. 

There  was  a  sort  of  transcendent  calm  in 
Ashton  Trask's  face  when  he  came  into  the 
room. 

"Beloved,"  he  said  to  her,  and  yet  again 
"Beloved." 

He  went  to  her  side,  and  even  then  he  did 
not  know,  until  he  touched  her.  Beautiful, 
and  calm,  and  smiling  she  faced  him. 

"Roberta,"  he  whispered — then  his  eye  fell 
on  her  message. 

"Beloved,"  he  read,  "I  am  racing  toward  the 
sun-up,  but  this  day,  I  shall  be  on  time!  I 
love  you  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul.  'Hold 
thou  the  lamp!'" 

His  eye  followed  to  the  words  she  marked: 

Peace,  my  heart,  let  the  time  for  parting  be  sweet. 
Let  it  not  be  a  death,  but  completeness. 


230         The  Clutch  of  Circumstance 

Let  love  melt  into  memory,  and  pain  into  songs. 
Let  the  flight  through  the  sky  end  in  the  folding  of 

wings  over  the  nest. 
Let  the  last  touch  of  your  hands  be  gentle,  like  the 

flower  of  the  night. 
Stand  still,  O  Beautiful  End,  for  a  moment,  and  say 

your  last  words  in  silence. 
I  bow  to  you,  and  hold  up  my  lamp  to  light  you  on 

your  way. 

He  did  not  cry  out,  he  did  not  flinch.  He 
looked  upon  her  calmly,  with  a  love  which 
equalled  her  demand  of  him.  He  stood  above 
her,  so,  many  minutes,  then  he  whispered : — 

"Beloved,  I  bow  to  you  and  hold  up  my  lamp 
to  light  you  on  your  wayl" 


THE  END 


B1T5 
felFU 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


NON-RENEWABLE 


MAY  1 0  1990 


DUE  imfifWt  ^^ 

UCLA 


DECEIVED 


YR]. 


DUE:  FEB  0  3 


UCLA  ACCESS  SERVICES       BL  1« 

Interlibrary  Loans 
1 1 630  Young  Reseirch 
BOX  951575 
Los  Angeles.  CA.  9P0S6- 
r  Lb  ^ "  cuou 


ILL 

Z006 


Library 
-1575 


A    000  828  410     1 


